


Human 3.0

by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-17
Updated: 2010-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 69,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perryvic/pseuds/perryvic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That's the sort of thing you need people like me to stop. Out of the couple of handfuls of manifesting natural 3.0 humans that exist on the planet, the SGC had four of them. That wasn't a coincidence."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human 3.0

**Author's Note:**

> [Art](http://archiveofourown.org/works/119599) by [sian1359](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sian1359/pseuds/sian1359); [Art](http://archiveofourown.org/works/119062) by [Syble](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Syble/pseuds/Syble)

The urge to reach up and yank them down was nearly irresistible, but he forced the impulse back from action. He didn't think he could have; it was the drugs talking, telling him he had no physical limits, that he was more than awe-inspiring, he was awesome, in the same way that a god was awesome. He was a creature to be feared, and he could feel it in his veins, see it in the sky in patterns of electromagnetic pulse and the ebb of the _Daedalus_ 's engines, the humming of its shell, the beauty of space-travel and energy wrought thick with speed and efficiency.

It was real, better than the _Prometheus_ , and he wanted to go up there and hold onto it before it landed, and he couldn't really actually do that either. It was better to stay standing on the docks, arms folded behind him, reveling in the orgasmic thrum of metal and power and metal and he was so high. So damn high it felt like he was never going to come down.

Carson was going to regret those stimulants before the day was out, and Rodney knew he was going to regret that he'd asked for them in the first place. Radek was already looking at Rodney like he knew what he was thinking and maybe he did know, maybe he understood what it felt like more than most of them, to know that they'd done it. Bombs, rail guns, all of it had been necessary to see off their threat, but it wasn't as if someone else had been fighting for them. They'd fought for themselves. They'd won for themselves.

And now Earth reinforcements arrived late to the party, in time for the aftermath.

It was typical. Half of them injured, the other half wishing they were dead from exhaustion -- John, even John, lying down as if he had run a marathon, gasping with fatigue because they'd pushed themselves to the limit then gone beyond it and somehow, against the odds, survived in the face of invasion and Hive ships. He narrowed his eyes a little as he focused on the descending ship. Typical SGC, swooping in when the dirty work was done.

"Please, Rodney, do not be making only source of coffee in Pegasus crash into the sea. No powers would save you from the wrath of many caffeine-starved scientists."

"I am, I..." It was times like that, when he was strung out, that the god complex most people suspected was nestled down in the lizard part of his brain wanted to take control. "I'm not going to. I just want to lie down and sleep. For a few days."

"Yes, yes. We will. Too many drugs. Where are Major Sheppard and Dr. Weir?" Radek replied wearily. His hair looked like he had a distressing accident with gel and then slept on it, but it was most likely real grease, as they were all slumped stained, exhausted and too wrung out to even get excited that they finally had contact with Earth again

The _Daedalus_ was docking.

Rodney half stepped backwards, as if that would stop the temptation to poke at the ship mentally. "They should be coming." They'd expected them to beam someone down, try to make contact, first, but he supposed they expected the city was dead, empty, hollowed out. There wasn't even much sense in sending a cavalry to Atlantis's aid if they thought they were dead, but maybe it was to secure the base. Maybe it was to destroy it. Rodney wasn't sure, but he was going to linger and wait.

The _Daedalus_ was beautiful as it settled against the pier, eclipsing the sun as it landed and making it flare over its gleaming metallic lines.

"Good timing," Sheppard drawled behind him. Rodney glanced around and suspected that he was a mirror of the Major's haggard face and bruised eyes and slumped shoulders. "They probably saw the debris up there and assumed the worst. Carson… I think he's about to drop. I got Teyla down there but she just needs to sleep it off."

"Do we have anyone conscious?" Sheppard still looked better than he had before, but that had been sprawled out on the ground, gasping like a fish out of water, so in reality not hard to achieve. "Uh, and bodies. I mean, have we had a headcount, started cleanup, or can we just request that from the _Daedalus_?" If they didn't put them all in handcuffs. Well, try. Rodney wasn't sure why, but he'd always had a good, healthy sense of paranoia about that.

"We're in a minority," Sheppard answered. "Being upright. We haven't lost as many as we could have. Down to Carson and some inventive defense. Nice work on the boosted cloak, McKay."

"I'm pretty proud of it." It had held long enough to do the trick, and the twelve remaining hives assumed that the city was destroyed, but. But, they'd be back when the rumors got out again. On the other hand Earth had found them, and the gangplank was lowering at the dock, and Rodney shifted from side to side. "I'm a wreck."

"Here," John tossed him what passed for candy in the Athosian village. "Might give you the strength to fall asleep."

"Major." Elizabeth steadied herself walking down as the pier shuddered at the contact of the spaceship. "I thought you were meant to be resting."

"Yeah well." Sheppard shrugged unsteadily, betraying he wasn't as casual as he appeared. "Thought I ought to show up for a ranking SGC brass."

There was no sense in hesitating to eat it -- a little burst of sugar, a sort of nutty taste. It was bound up with honey and nuts, and hard as rock as long as it didn't get wet, and Rodney had a bit of a fondness for it. Sort of like granola. "I'm waiting for them to start playing the emperor's march -- oh, look, Marines with guns pointed at us." He hadn't missed that, that look of them scoping out the dock, checking for threats, eyeing their ragtag band. "It's about damn time!"

"Dr. Weir?" There was a Colonel heading up the team, and Rodney already thought very little about him when he read the name-strip on his uniform. Caldwell. "And Dr. McKay. Major Sheppard. Got to admit we weren't expecting to see you."

Radek muttered something in Czech under his breath.

Rodney snorted. "And yet here we are. You got our message." It wasn't a question so much as a statement -- they had to have gotten that compressed message, with all of their reports and the data with it, the whole length and breadth of the mission to date.

"Yes. Although we were delayed," Caldwell said. "The general apologizes but we were, in his own words, having our asses kicked at the time."

"We just repelled fifteen Hive ships," Rodney declared. "And by repelled, and just, I mean, I'm surprised you didn't pass them on the way here." He paused, and glanced at Radek for a moment, and then went back to looking at the man's name-badge. "You didn't, did you? And if you didn't, what're you here to do, exactly?"

"We were here to try and find survivors and ensure the location of Earth was not compromised," Caldwell stated clinically. "Try and find an alpha site. But you're here. Surprisingly. I'll get assistance here immediately. How are you doing for supplies?"

Elizabeth stepped up then, and Rodney started to wander towards the _Daedalus_ , eyeing the aura he could sense around it. So much power, and there was something different about it, there was a texture to it that he could feel as he got closer to the ship. Maybe hugging it wasn't so out of place.

Surprisingly Sheppard followed him, giving orders to groups of marines coming off of the ship, but staying close. "Does it really make you feel better?" he asked still looking around carefully. "I hope they know about your compulsion to make out with spaceships."

"It's the natural magnetic field of it," Rodney murmured. "It's amazing, and I have no way to explain it but if anyone asks, I'm going to blame the meth Carson was giving us."

Sometimes, he just missed contact with old familiar alloys. It only took a half-exhausted thought, and he was up on the top of the ship just to lie out on top of it much to the discomfort of the Daedalus marines who were watching them as if unsure whether they should ignore them or humor them.

"Times like this I wish I could charge up like that." John was clambering up with him. "We can just be battle crazy here. Hey, that's more MREs." He nodded down towards a crate being unloaded.

"Mmm, that's good. Sometimes you get tired of Tava paste. Mind, I'm sure the cooks are tired of pretending they're trained infantrymen." Rodney shrugged, letting the back of his head rest on hot-warm metal. He could feel it, the contents, the molecules, could guess the heat those alloys had been created with in order to meld them perfectly for space worthiness.

"Tired of Tava paste? Teyla will be disappointed." John leaned back and smiled. "Jesus, I'm half believing it's a dream."

"Rodney? John?" Elizabeth called to them. "I think you need to come down here. Commander Caldwell has brought something from Earth for us."

There was something about her tone that attracted attention.

All he wanted to do was stretch out on top of the _Daedalus_ and nap in the sun. Nap with a sandwich might have been more convenient, but anything was a step up from moving and fighting and wondering if they were all going to die now, or would that now come in fifteen minutes, or twenty? Rodney shifted, standing up slowly. "Hey, do you want help down, Sheppard?"

"Hit me with your fairy dust, Tinkerbell," John yawned. He could've done it himself, but John tried to keep his abilities as secret as possible.

It made sense. He'd kept it a secret from most of Atlantis, and until it was necessary, even Rodney hadn't known. Rodney reached out, grabbed John's hand, and decided to make it a two for one -- one trip, just a little more effort to float down to the ground. "I still feel like this requires a cape."

"What color? Black is dramatic but, you know... it kinda says super villain. How about blue?" John replied even as he caught Caldwell looking at them.

"Still showing off your powers, Dr. McKay?"

"Hey, he cloaked the city," Sheppard defended immediately. "With Dr. Zelenka and our puddlejumpers. He's entitled."

"I like your ship," Rodney commented as they touched down, and he let go of John's hand. "What did you bring?"

"Major Lorne?" Caldwell gestured to an officer who was pretty much at this moment the complete opposite of Sheppard. Sharp, alert and solid.

"Sir, with the regards of SG-1... they thought you might need this," Major Lorne said popping open the front of the container in his hands.

The dull orange glow caught his eyes immediately, and he jerked, half-stepping towards it. "Where did you get this? What, how did you find it?"

"Long story involving some pretty weird technology," Lorne contributed.

"And, assuming they've finally got the Stargate working again," Caldwell said. "After the attack, we've got another back home, as well. I assume you know what that means?"

From the way Zelenka's knees literally went weak and he had to sit down abruptly on the floor, it was pretty obvious they did know. They could go home. They could go back and forth, as easy as stepping through a door, and Rodney could hardly wait for that. "We're not the abandoned mission anymore. We can re-supply..."

"And when we report back that you are still here, there will be a line of people waiting to come here," Caldwell said. "Especially after what you described about Dr. Beckett's ATA and what did you call it? Human version 3.0 activator gene therapy."

"You do realize that we still have an active threat in this galaxy," Rodney spoke up. Line of people -- yes, that was all good and well, but Rodney could tell that Elizabeth was thinking the same thing that he was. People just showing up was a bad idea, because it wasn't paradise.

"And not all the 3.0 manifestations are... useful, Not like McKay's or Beckett's, who were naturals, or Dr. Zelenka's," John drawled beside him. Rodney noticed he didn't mention his own.

"Yes, changing color of hair and skin at will, not overly useful," Zelenka added.

"Miko can now kill any crossword. When we run into the planet of crossword worshippers, we'll know who to send for. Until then, though..." Rodney rolled his shoulders. "And then there's Ford."

John grimaced. "Too much flexibility. He should've died being eaten by a Wraith but, he's... saturated in the enzyme and he went nuts. Beckett took him down after he tried to take the doc hostage. If he'd been thinking straight, he wouldn't have even tried it. He knows what Carson can do."

"It's not all sunshine and ponies, and if it does take on you, Colonel, you'll never be as powerful as a natural. Sort of like the ATA gene." Rodney cut his eyes to the ZPM, and started to walk towards it. "With your permission, I'd like to install the ZPM, and then pass out."

"You do that Rodney," Elizabeth said. "If only because I know you and all of your team will sleep soundly knowing it's installed."

"Major Sheppard, I need to debrief you," Caldwell said.

Sheppard pulled himself up and nodded curtly. Rodney just hoped he wasn't going to find that Sheppard had been screwed over.

Out of everyone on the mission, John had it coming the least. Rodney lifted his chin, and gave Caldwell what he hoped was a veiled dirty look before he glanced over to the marines. "All right, the ZPM chamber is this way. Follow me."

* * *

It was going to be hard not to fall asleep. His bones ached and he had the equivalent of feeling like he had the flu from over stretching his abilities. Phasing an entire puddlejumper multiple times had pushed him hard and that wasn't good. He'd almost felt like was going to shake apart.

And now, hey, a ZPM. Cool.

It was sort of a disjointed awareness that he had going on, and it was a damn shame that he hadn't been able to stretch out on top of the _Daedalus_ with Rodney to nap, because the man's magnetic fields could sort of make John feel more grounded. It was imprecise, and probably perfectly non-scientific, but sometimes it felt like standing near a roaring fire after a day of shoveling snow.

Rodney was probably off cooing over the ZPM as Caldwell and Elizabeth followed John through the city, towards Elizabeth's office. There were bits of wreckage, things they needed to clean up. People they needed to ship back home, wounded and dead. There wasn't really time to fall asleep.

"How much damage has the city sustained?"

"A fair amount," John said non-committally. "Wasn't all working to start with. McKay tells me it's fixable."

"I assume McKay has plans to fix it himself." That was the sort of obnoxious, long-suffering tone in reference to McKay that John hadn't heard since they'd gated out to Atlantis. He didn't really miss it, either. "Well, that should save us on requisitioned materials."

"Doesn't mean we couldn't use help, sir," John replied. He'd choke down the attitude to help the scientists out. Caldwell didn't know anything more than he was 3.0 and ATA positive, and nothing about what he had been doing over the years. "If you've got coffee on board that would be a big boost to morale."

"We have supplies that we can give you," Caldwell affirmed, glancing to Elizabeth.

"I think everyone here would appreciate that. Regaining contact with Earth after everything that's happened is a relief." She had that crisp tight smile that John knew meant she was playing diplomat. He waved at them to halt for a moment while he double-checked over the body of the Wraith on the floor, and then gestured for them to follow him again.

"How many casualties have you had? Other then the ones reported in your message."

"I haven't had a final count from the battle. We were invaded. Wraith got in. We have forty-seven down that I know of. Of those... I'm not sure how many were fatalities."

He didn't want to think about it. Out of the initial two hundred, they'd lost more than a quarter of their population when he added in the people that John knew were dead. "I know of ten," Elizabeth murmured. "We're still in the process of searching for any others and treating those we've found. If you could take up some of our wounded, it would lighten the load on the infirmary."

"We can do that," Caldwell confirmed, tapping his earpiece.

"Carson is ready to drop down there and won't be able to stop. I'd rather not have him collapse." John managed to get them to somewhere to sit even as Caldwell was giving orders.

"You'd think he'd have the sense to stop when he has to," Caldwell muttered, but made a few more commands, and John pulled a chair out for Elizabeth.

"Thank you." Only ATA had taken hold for her, and she seemed satisfied with that, with being able to feel the city and Ancient technology hum under her fingers.

John wasn't exactly sure how Carson's talent worked, but he could imagine that if he thought he could save a life, he wouldn't be able to stop either.

"So... what are Earth's intentions, sir?" John asked.

Caldwell looked at Elizabeth, and shook his head slightly. "We weren't expecting to find you here still, organized, and mostly whole. My instructions were to search for survivors who might have holed themselves up in the city, excise portions of the database, disable the gate and fly back home. I'll need to debrief you, Major Sheppard, and ask some questions."

"Do you want to do that now, sir?" John asked. "Or would you prefer to wait?" He didn't feel completely together. He'd spent years with ridiculous codenames for black ops -- Ghost, Phantom, Specter, even Wraith -- though the irony killed him now. All the names emphasized his insubstantial nature.

He felt insubstantial just then, like he was focusing hard on staying together and when he leaned on the desktop and felt his fingers meld into it, he knew he was having that trouble. Caldwell's eyes cut to John, and he tilted his head. "Maybe I was overestimating how functioning all of you were."

"It's been a long week, Colonel," Elizabeth said a little sharply. "We've been actively involved in warfare missions since shortly after we passed our message through the gate. Key personnel are exhausted."

"I meant... Colonel, would you prefer to wait until I had more information about our current position, or continue with what we have right now, sir?" John put in. He knew his file said he was a loner, suitable for solo ops only. But that had been because it suited them to have him be that way. He knew he became dangerously obsessive about teams or partners -- someone to cling to, to ground him, but that had worked in favor as well.

"I understand your arguments, Doctor Weir, Major Sheppard." Caldwell inclined his head. "We'll continue cleanup processes in your absence and resume this conversation when you've both rested."

"Appreciate it, sir," John answered, giving a rare salute. If there was no immediate crisis it was damn stupid to debrief while people weren't functional.

He was never one to write off the military as anything other than Damn Stupid when the occasion warranted. Caldwell inclined his head. "Dismissed."

Damned if that didn't rankle some as well. He'd been commander of the Atlantis military, no matter how unsuited and ill prepared he evidently was, and having Caldwell waltz in rubbed him up the wrong way. He managed to save his grimace until Caldwell had left and resisted the urge to make something of the issue. There was no point.

"Well, that went as well as could be expected. John, I don't expect to see you for at least twenty-four hours." Not that John thought he could rest that long, but a good twelve hours of sleep and some food and concentration on not phasing through the furniture sounded great.

"Yes, ma'am," He gave a more flippant but more sincere salute and smiled even as he decided what to do. Shower. Sleep. He should be finding out information, doing stuff, but he couldn't.

He decided, in the end, to find something to eat, go grab Rodney and see if he could persuade him just to sleep in near proximity because that would mean a shorter recovery. There were two options there -- head down to where the ZPMs were, and then drag Rodney to the mess, or trust that McKay would be drawn to food the way moths smacked themselves into light bulbs. Because if there were MREs, then Rodney was going to veer for the bizarre mac 'n cheese ones, which had been gone for a good six months now.

He compromised on going to get a couple of MREs, then heading to find Rodney. The place smelled of smoke, acrid ozone from energy weapons and he had to clamber over obstacles just to get to the power room. There he found Rodney and Zelenka just sitting on the floor staring at the installed ZPM.

"We finally have one. We should see what systems come up, try to maximize them, we should..." Rodney waved a hand vaguely, and he looked unfocused.

"We should have something to eat and sleep, then play with the shiny toys tomorrow," John said. "I snagged a few MREs here and I had a feeling you'd be difficult to pry away from this thing. Dr. Z, you want one?"

"Please." He leaned back on one hand, reaching his other hand out to try to catch one if John threw it.

"You survived your chewing out and you brought food, Major? You saint."

"Chewing out postponed due to me zoning out on Caldwell," John answered. "Not my finest hour." He tossed over the MREs to them both. "Your favorite, McKay."

Rodney caught his, and started to pull it open without hesitating. "Oh, mac 'n cheese! This is fantastic -- here, Major, sit down. This area is fairly clear and clean. I think. Comparatively." He'd probably done some pick-up work in the area, but John wasn't going to comment.

He could do that. The moment he stepped into what he called the RodneyZone he felt better. Less flying apart or shaky. It made it easy to sit down and relax while cracking his own MRE. "So it works huh? We've got what? Cloak? Shield?"

"Shield up, that's all. Whatever other systems that want to come up," Rodney shrugged. "We need to optimize the place, but, oh, Sheppard, we can do so much with this, it's mindboggling..." He cracked the heating bag, settling his meal into it.

"I figured." John was aware he was basking. It was a little embarrassing but it felt like lying out in sunshine after being chilled to the bone. He hoped the fact he was eating would explain his contented expression. "We've got to patch this place up. Patch everyone up."

"I need to rest first," Rodney declared as he dug around in his food. "Where's Carson? Where's Teyla?"

"Infirmary and, just for a change, infirmary," John replied, finding that the food felt rich to him now after living off of Pegasus homegrown.

Radek was eating swiftly, as well. "If more ships come, Cloak will engage. This...it tells me this," he said, gesturing to the ZPM console. "Very useful."

"Hey, Major, can you pass me your canteen? I have a packet here claiming to be a milkshake." If it was, Rodney would actually drink it, even if it was disgusting.

He passed it over without hesitating, closed his eyes and felt the wrap around of Rodney's magnetic field rather disturbingly like a large fuzzy blanket. He couldn't tell Rodney that because, there was that whole cape thing and the image and fuzzy blanket imagery wasn't exactly a cape -- although privately John thought it suited Rodney in his head.

"One day your teeth will fall out," Radek sighed, spoon stuck firmly in his mouth. "Tuna salad tastes like cat food smells, but. I think I am too hungry to complain."

"Then what're you doing now?" John could hear the rise and fall of Rodney's voice, and just relaxed into it.

"They got better stuff, but we've gotta fix up the kitchens before we can get that," John said, half-lidding his eyes. "I could sleep for a week."

"Yeah," Rodney agreed, and gave another heavy sigh. "I wonder if they're going to recall us to Earth. Did Caldwell say?"

"They weren't expecting to find us here pretty much intact," John explained. "Their orders are all to crap now. You eaten that yet?"

"Working on it. I'm kind of suspicious of the freeze dried fruits..." Because they were usually treated with some kind of citric acid, and that was where Rodney's whole superhero thing fell apart. Super heroes weren't supposed to have allergies.

"You want me to try it?" It was the norm in his team. If it looked like citrus he'd try it to be on the safe side.

Radek had finished eating and sat back glancing at them. "Like married couple you are."

Rodney snorted at Radek, and gestured to the packet. "Nah, it has citric acid on the label. You can have them, though -- free freeze dried berries."

John took them, needing the sweetness in it. Funny how a lot of them were really dependent on the limits of their bodies when it came to their 3.0 abilities. Rodney could do amazing comic book things, but unlike comic heroes, when it burned up sufficient calories, his hypoglycemia kicked his ass and it would send him flailing. "We've got orders to rest, you know," he said with a yawn

"Fantastic." Rodney sighed. "I might just sleep right here."

"Nah, c'mon... you're the one going on about how your back is a disaster area. Let me get you back to quarters."

"Right. Radek, this is where we part ways..." Rodney waved to his friend, and slowly, slowly, got a foot under him so he could stand up. "Oof."

"Easy there." It was simple for John to steady him, a hand on his shoulder that didn't phase through. "Okay, there we go."

"Go sleep. Tomorrow we win three more Nobel prizes, yes?" Radek said, showing no signs of moving. It was okay to leave him there -- there were marines close, patrolling the area.

John grinned a little and began steering Rodney away.

"Tomorrow," Rodney agreed, and he let John steer him because he trusted John. He trusted John just to get him to his quarters, and navigate them through the wreckage.

It took a little while, partly because neither of them was entirely coherent, but John got them there and then tried to think of the best way to broach the subject with Rodney. Pretend he was guarding him? Make out he was doing him a favor?

"McKay?" he asked even as they entered into the room.

"Mmm?" Rodney turned, looking still a little disoriented. "You look tired."

"Yeah. We've got a right to be. Uh, look...." He grimaced a little at the awkwardness. "This is going to sound weird but... I'm running kinda fuzzy around the edges right now and your 'RodneyZone' sort of helps my molecules relate to each other a little better..."

"Are you kidding?" Rodney glanced at him, staring at John for a moment before he shook his head. "Okay, no, then. Can I make an 'aha, you're attracted to me' joke?" and John could already feel Rodney's 'zone' thickening.

"You can make all the jokes you want, if you'll let me stay over," John replied a little more seriously than he intended. He'd had nightmares after the 3.0 gene manifested, that he was going to lose cohesion in his sleep. It seemed ridiculous, but right now it felt like a real prospect.

"Sure. Grab a corner of the mattress," Rodney murmured, toeing off his shoes as he shifted to lie down. "You really are drifting apart. I can almost feel the molecules."

"Phasing the jumper once was hard but doable. Doing it all those other times...." John waited unless Rodney settled and then flopped on the other side. It was fantastic and soothing. "I was leaning into the table by accident earlier."

"Damn, and I missed that. You're always so subtle, and I'm..." Rodney waved one hand as he stretched out on his stomach, hugging onto a pillow. "Not."

"Cape-guy," John said, relaxing and then grinning. "Look, you know why. Black Ops only a handful of people knowing about me. I spent all that time in Antarctica because they were hiding me from the NID. Idiots thought I might be an alien weapon."

"Huh. Why didn't they try to walk off with me?" Rodney sounded mellow, but not so much that he didn't jerk his head up. "They didn't, did they?"

John shrugged a little. "That's the sort of thing you need people like me to stop. Out of the couple of handfuls of manifesting natural 3.0 humans that exist on the planet, the SGC had four of them. That wasn't a coincidence."

"Oh." It seemed to startle Rodney a little, and the field compressed more warmly around John. "And you make five."

"I was meant to be the... secret back up. Especially after O'Neill blew his privacy along with pretty much half the gate room. " John laid back. "We ran Ops together before the Stargate program kicked off."

Rodney sighed quietly, muffled against the pillow. "You don't look that old."

"They got me young," John admitted. "But I got to be a pilot out of the deal." And desperation and tight corners had taught him some very cool things he wasn't going to even attempt to describe. "Would've liked to have been able to fly like you do."

"It's amazing," Rodney murmured. "I mean, really amazing. But I've said that before. Soaring out there, powered with my own mind..."

"Yeah," John exhaled a little. "So you still reckon you got the best genetic upgrade?" he asked. His phasing ability was useful for dark and dangerous things, even if he had never really wanted to be dark and dangerous.

"Yeah. I'm multi-function," Rodney murmured, turning his head so that he smushed a cheek hard against the pillow. "I can fly. I can bend knives. I can do my own soldering work. I can stop bullets. I can blow out my own EM pulse. I'm still learning even after years what I can do."

He could slip through walls. He could dance like a ninja on the surface of water; he could walk through the Earth and sky. He could float, or leap high. He could phase a metal bar and slip it into someone's head and then let it solidify and kill with no noise, no blood.

"Mmmhmm," he agreed. "Speed is cool, as well, though."

Rodney snorted to that. "I can't bring myself to agree with that."

"Come on, I thought Colonel Carter was your style."

"Yes, to a point. She's always going on about how I'm meddling with nature, and it's..." Rodney waved one hand. "Ironic."

"Meddling with nature?" John raised his eyebrows. "And she's not? Or O'Neill?" O'Neill lived to blow up bits of nature.

"Exactly. I'm not messing about with time, or my own molecules. And her pseudo psychology is just hysterical. She once told me with my constant use of EM fields I'd fry out my own brain somehow. Hello, my body's built for this. I snapped something about air-friction burns, but she called it wishful thinking and I don't think we've had a civil conversation since."

"Wow. Carson's is pretty cool. He ever talk about it?" John didn't talk that much about his, but he found other's fascinating, if only because he wanted to know what they were capable of.

It was useful, but like Rodney had said, he was still exploring what he could do, and that was after over twenty years of the power. "Sometimes. Healing. No one's even sure how that one works, but I find it pretty fascinating. There has to be a consequence..."

"That seems to be the way it works. Not like the films. He's never said anything. Maybe it's a food thing, like with you." John closed his eyes again.

"Need to ask that," Rodney murmured. "Going to try to sleep now. You should, too."

"Yeah," John agreed, but it barely came out. He was already there and lulled to sleep by Rodney's magnetic field embracing him gently.

* * *

Carson wasn't sure how long he slept after he finally collapsed, but when he woke and felt even remotely human again, he stepped out into Atlantis and found things completely different. Instead of debris and fire, the infirmary was clear again. Instead of deserted areas, the place was heaving with people he didn't recognize, the daily pattern of life. And coffee, he could smell coffee.

And someone had put an IV in his arm. That was very annoying.

He looked around, a little wild-eyed, for someone to tell him what was going on. Carson was fairly sure that he hadn't ended up in an alternate reality, but it _was_ a vague possibility. Stranger things had happened, and there was always the possibility for mass hallucinations. Particularly in Pegasus. He dragged the IV with him as he started to venture further into the city. In retrospect, he should have just left it there, but Carson assumed he'd been jacked in for a reason. At least he wasn't in scrubs. Bloody IV. Sod the damn thing, the stand kept getting tangled up on dead ten thousand year old plants. He found himself trying to untie it when he felt someone approach behind him.

"Carson! Fantastic, just the person I was looking for." Rodney was all wild grins, and Carson could hear it in his voice.

He turned around, and his focused and sleeping talent unfurled abruptly. Immediately the sense of Rodney flooded over him, bright and strong. Beautiful, and surprisingly well balanced, considering the effort he had put into the defense. How long had he been out? "Rodney, you seem better."

"Got some sleep, we have fresh food, and coffee. The _Daedalus_ arrived, and I've been putting the city back together." And probably eating through the new supplies, though MREs were high calorie enough that it wasn't such a high concern. "And, we have a ZPM."

"Wait, what?" Carson blinked. "How long have I been asleep?" They had a ZPM? And he vaguely remembered the _Daedalus_ coming just as he dropped.

"Oh, uh." There was a jittery dart to Rodney's eyes. "Two, three days. Give or take, I haven't been really wedded to the idea of time lately myself, a little busy and also, I have missed good coffee like you wouldn't believe."

"Three days? I can't have been asleep for three days! I'm the bloody CMO, I can't just... not be awake for that time! Who's been looking after my patients?" He pulled the IV out of his arm rapidly.

"Biro, I thought?" Rodney caught the needle in the air and kept it hanging as he got closer. "Here, let's get you back there, and then I could walk you to the mess? I was looking for you because Caldwell wanted to talk to you about ATA-treating his staff."

He was appalled at Rodney's cavalier attitude to lying around while people were hurting. "That's not exactly a surprise. I hope you told him it wasn't some superpower magic serum."

"I also told him that nine times out of ten, they'll end up like Miko, with some vague useless power if anything, and that it's nowhere near like you or me, but..."

"But he's looking at Radek and Teyla and thinking that would be useful," Carson replied. "How is everyone? Colonel Sheppard, the others?"

"Sheppard went a bit, mmm, non-corporeal, but he pulled together. We're here. Three days without being shot at makes a hell of a difference in morale around here," Rodney remarked. He had a hand around Carson's upper arm, walking him carefully back towards the infirmary.

"I'm not surprised, the pressures involved in his phasing are serious," Carson said as he entered the Infirmary again and the sense of the place rolled over him. Still a lot of wounded here and it was second nature to let his sense roam to see if anyone was critical. He inhaled sharply.

Apparently not, which was a relief.

He could reign himself in, and Rodney felt freakishly healthy and well rested while he walked at Carson's side. "You're probably hungry. I just put a wall back together. The materials they used to put this city together, Carson, are fantastic."

"You've said," Carson answered, even as Dr. Biro zeroed in on him.

"Dr. Beckett, there you are!" Biro said. "We were about to call the marines."

"Aye, well, I don't think that's necessary," Carson replied with a smile. Biro's almost giggly regard for him was pleasant but a little awkward for him to sense. "If there are no emergencies, I think I could use some of the new supplies we apparently have."

"No, we have everyone stabilized," she agreed, turning to look at him better. "Ah, and you brought your IV back. Thanks, McKay." She leaned forwards to grab the needle with a gloved hand.

"Careful!" Carson cautioned. "When I come back on shift could you have a list of injuries ready for me? I'll set a schedule for healing."

And a schedule for pain management as well on himself. At least this way he could pace himself. He was coming dangerously close to screwing himself over completely in the attack. Especially saving young Aiden's life.

Possibly letting him stay asleep for so long was a good idea. "Will do, Doctor Beckett." Biro was so precise sounding when she said that, and Rodney seemed like he was already distracted by being there.

"So, mess hall?"

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea Rodney," Carson said. "I must say you are feeling good today. Very... on top of the world."

He was trying to sense the cause. "Mmm, did I mention we have coffee?" Yes, there was that, but he'd felt Rodney hopped up on his favorite stimulant before and it had never felt quite so buoyant. "Also, the city has a ZPM."

"I will consider using a ZPM as a cure for depression, immediately," Carson replied. "You've been working hard. The place looks pretty well patched up."

"It needed to be patched up. We had some bizarre sea-bird try to nest in the mess hall." Rodney pulled at Carson's arm, still moving him gently along. "I don't think the people on the _Daedalus_ were prepared for the level of strange this galaxy brings."

"So, was there a reason they were late to the party?" Fortunately there was nothing wrong with Rodney, because Carson was unable to stop his empathic healing sense flowing at physical contact. It would be like trying not to breathe.

"Something with the gate shut down, and the _Daedalus_ tied up in battle with the Ori. They expected to collect any survivors, strip the place and turn around." But they weren't, and Rodney was probably working on a way for the Earth gate to be repaired, knowing him. If Sam wasn't already on it.

"I feel incredibly behind," Carson admitted. "I don't actually remember much from the battle, now."

Except pain. There had been a lot of pain eating at him and he knew he couldn't take any more of the pain pills, but it just keep flooding over him. He'd done what he could to rise above it, but he'd gotten lost in the pain, felt it radiating from all corners, and it was little surprise that he'd had to sleep for so long afterwards. "Nothing you could've done any sooner."

"So...are we shipping out or staying, oh, if we have a ZPM, can we dial home?" Carson asked as they made it to the mess hall. It smelled fantastic. Real food, real coffee, real everything.

"Once we're sure their gate is actually functioning," Rodney confirmed, finally letting go of Carson, but just to enter the line with him. "Which I'm working on. We're staying. No idea what the IOA wants, but we're staying."

"Good. Especially now we are actually in a position to do things. Surely they must see the value of what we have done here," Carson murmured. "Hey, Major Sheppard is over there."

Sitting off to the side, and Rodney lit up even as he grabbed a tray and a plate. "Oh, good. Great. Try the rolls. It's using the Athosian yeast, but we have Earth flour, and they really taste like American biscuits."

He was going to try everything. He took one of pretty much anything he could lay hands on and then settle down on John's table. "Major, you're..."

 _...Could be better, could be worse,_ his instincts replied. For John, that was tantamount to a glowing resume.

"Alive?" Major Sheppard smiled, taking a sip of what passed for milk. "It's good to see you up and around."

"Aye, well I feel like I woke up and missed Christmas or something, though I obviously needed the rest," he said, starting to eat with relish. John was worried about something and he frowned a little. "Is there something wrong, Major?"

"It's nothing." John was all smiling teeth, but there was something mentally twinging him, Carson could tell. Rodney seemed as oblivious as usual, chewing happily on a 'biscuit'.

He looked at John to tell him he knew that wasn't true but he wasn't going to call him on it right now. On the other hand, nothing wrong with bringing up a subject he was sure was related. "So what are the new people like? From Earth. Colonel Caldwell, isn't it?"

"He's--"

"Standard military issued leadership." Rodney picked up his fork. "By which I mean not impressive, and fairly obvious that he wants John's job."

"Has he _seen_ your job?" Carson asked immediately. "Besides, if it's not broken, then don't fix it. He couldn't have done what John did to protect the city, no matter how ill advised."

"I think one of the new guys has a man-crush on Sheppard," Rodney added. "Which may or may not help his standing with the newcomers. I haven't really gotten a feel for them yet." Mostly, Rodney had probably gotten a feel for their supplies.

"A man-crush?" Carson grinned. If there was one thing he was particular about it was not getting involved in telling people what other people felt for them. He usually down played that part of his ability. He wasn't even sure if Rodney realized that he had a thread of jealousy under his words. "Have the rules changed and no one told me?"

"McKay! Jeeze, the guy's just -- I sort of knew him, and there's nothing wrong with admiring a fellow soldier." Sheppard rolled his shoulders, and then shot a look around the place likes he was making sure that the soldier in question wasn't around. "If I get a choice, I think I'd like to keep him around. Bates is already talking about leaving with the _Daedalus_ , or going through the gate when someone gets it working."

"Oh, sure, task me with the impossible when I'm trying to enjoy real food."

Carson grinned. Being around John and Rodney was like a tonic to him sometimes -- aside from when they were getting injured. "Sounds like an interesting guy. Was he from the SGC? Would I know him?"

"Lorne ring a bell?" John tilted his head slightly, scooping up a hearty bite of the fake mashed potatoes.

He frowned a little. "Lorne...Lorne, oh aye, Evan. SG-11, I think. Major Lorne." He could remember the feel of him, the dance of energy, and shape of a person. "He is a good man. I've worked on him a few times."

Rodney hummed around his fork. "See, this is why most of them give us all funny looks. You know someone from just working on them, and I just put the walls back together so Sheppard could..." He waved his fork while he grabbed another mouthful of what might've been green beans.

"Walk through them?" John said, voice pitched low. He had to let Carson know his ability, which caused him a few issues.

"That might annoy Caldwell. Does he know about you?"

Sheppard shook his head, and added, "I hope not."

"Depends on what he was told. Which reminds me that he wants his crew to get your magic shot, did I mention that?"

"Aye, you did," Carson said. "If there are SGC orders I'll do it, but otherwise I will... not have enough in stock."

Not all abilities were beneficial.

Rodney nodded. "No orders. I actually need one of you to re-activate some of the more sensitive consoles, so whoever has a meeting next and needs a rescue..."

"I have yet another briefing with Caldwell, justifying command decisions. He's got a guy called Everett on his back." John could sense the anxiety from him. "A friend of Sumner."

Ouch. That wasn't so good, not for John. "If he'd seen a Wraith, he'd understand."

"They missed the part of the fight where we had them in the city," Rodney murmured, face tightening up.

Brief overtones of fear and terror flooded his awareness. "If he needs a graphic description of what happens, John, send him to me." Rodney felt a lot better for food.

"Will do." John made a vague gesture that Carson took as a loose kind of salute. Only, it did involve the glass that John was picking up. "This is nice."

"What the food? Or being able to sit for more than two minutes without a disaster happening?" Carson said leaning back.

"That last one. Tomorrow, McKay, we're going to take Teyla and a couple of the new marines and scout out some of the lower levels of the city, do some repairs, that bit."

"I'll prepare the infirmary then. Just in case," Carson teased a little. "Teyla is fine now, so I'm sure she'll keep you out of trouble."

"It's going to be strange," Rodney said, gesturing a little. "Without Ford."

"I'm not sure I've got the changes stabilized," Carson replied. It was a tricky situation. "The Wraith enzyme causes some profound changes."

"Still, the fact that he's alive..." Could be good or bad, and Rodney knew it, had to know it, even when he said it.

"He might have to go to Earth," Carson said regretfully. It was more a case of monitoring until it completely settled, and that would be difficult on Atlantis.

"With his eye like that?" Rodney asked, lifting an eyebrow. "I mean, here if you look like an extra from a horror movie, no one cares."

"They have access to Goa'uld healing devices." Carson answered. He could stimulate regeneration of body parts but it was an agony for him. In Ford's case, he needed a stable system to do it in. The Goa'uld device was less imaginative and in this case that would be a plus.

John made a questioning noise. "Tell me it's not the box they put themselves in that you're talking about?"

"Bloody Hell no," Carson shuddered. The sarcophagus healing felt like a knife over raw nerves the one time he had been close enough. He didn't have to be told that it wasn't all it was meant to be. "The Tok'ra use them."

"Which means that it's some measure more humane," Rodney agreed. "We're just not sure if there are long term effects..."

"Tok'ra hand device healing feels right," Carson replied with an easy shrug. "Who knows, I might be able to stabilize it myself. I guess I should think about going to work."

"I did just watch you pull an IV out of your arm." Rodney shifted, turned to look at him, and Carson could feel his fork thrumming for a moment. "You should rest."

"Rodney, I've rested for three days. There are people in the infirmary who need patching up. " Carson exhaled. "There's work to do!"

"I want this down in the record. Sheppard, you heard him -- the next time he tries to bully me into the infirmary when I'm busy, remember that he's blown all credibility today over dinner." Lord, it was dinner? He'd slept almost four days away!

"You forget, I know your limits better than you do. The both of you," Carson chastised even as John smirked a little at them. "Now. I'll go check in with them all. If either you are on late, let me know. We can catch a late snack."

"Right. Then you go to work. Sheppard, you want to take Turning Things On duty for me?"

"Sure. Might as well do something useful today." John shifted languidly and grinned at Carson. "Good to have you back and awake, doc. You get the next human light switch duty."

"I'll look forward to that," Carson answered and much to his surprise, he found he actually meant it.

* * *

John wasn't entirely sure how many more meetings he could stand with Caldwell. He wasn't even sure why every single decision he had made needed to be questioned. It was looking more and more like he was going to be booted when they visited Earth for debriefing because according to Caldwell, he should've done everything differently.

"Doctor McKay believes he can have the gates connected within the next twenty four hours." It seemed less like a statement and more like a question from Caldwell.

"He's a regular miracle man, sir," John acknowledged. "If he says he can, he can."

"In a number of your reports you implied that his ego sometimes carried away with him." Caldwell glanced down at the computer screen that he probably had his stock sheet of questions at the ready for clubbing John with.

"He needs reining in a little, but he's entitled to some arrogance. He is as smart as he says he is," John said. "And as powerful. That electromagnetism has a lot of uses."

"Has he ever presented as a danger on a mission?" That was, oh. That was a new direction, but John had expected that for years, had seen it vaguely applied to O'Neill.

John frowned. "Not specifically more than anyone else. We fall afoul of local issues every now and then." He shrugged. "First contact missions are like that."

"Does he, in your opinion, abuse his powers?" It was like Caldwell was sliding over a checklist.

"No." John said that confidently. No, Rodney didn't abuse his powers although John had on occasion had to talk fast to stop him crossing a line, but Caldwell didn't need to know that. "Occasionally he'll show off a little here in Atlantis, but..." John shrugged. "He does more good than anything else. Stealing desserts is not exactly an abuse of power."

"Has there been any abuse of power by any of the 'new' upgrades?" At least he hadn't asked if Beckett had been abusing his power. Skirted right over him.

John hesitated. "One or two instances," he said. "People going over the top with new abilities. I guess it hits you harder if you don't grown into it from childhood. But they were contained and equilibrium was resumed a week or so after the Human 3.0 upgrades manifested. Haven't yet seen a powerful talent that doesn't have some sort of cost in terms of energy or recuperation."

"I need to establish with you people who can be allowed to initially return to Earth for debriefing, Major Sheppard. You'll be heading back as soon as the gate works. Do you believe that Doctor McKay could be trusted to behave himself if he crossed back through the gate?"

"With respect, sir, we haven't all changed into crazies out here. We've been fighting for our lives." John scowled. "Of course Rodney can behave himself. He's no threat to anyone except people trying to kill us."

"With respect, Major, I came here expecting a completely different situation than we found in actuality. You repelled an excessive number of the enemy, relying on these powers that so many of you have."

"We didn't have a whole lot of choice, Colonel," John retorted. "There wasn't any back up coming, and we had to get creative. I would've thought that was grounds for commendation, not condemnation." Last thing he wanted was this turning into a witch-hunt. "I notice you haven't included Dr. Beckett in your questions."

"The SGC isn't concerned about Doctor Beckett. His profile is well known and he's well respected within the SGC. Some of his practices have been questionable, of course, but it's the nature of working within the Stargate project." Caldwell glanced down at his screen again. "I want to send you, Doctor Weir, Doctor Beckett and Doctor McKay through the gate for the initial debriefing."

John sincerely doubted that Carson had done a questionable practice in his life that hadn't been forced upon him first. "That's all the senior staff, sir," John pointed out. He wondered if Beckett had kept his people sensing aspect under wraps just as he had his phase abilities on a need to know basis. As far as he was aware, only O'Neill knew about his abilities at the SGC, and his team and Elizabeth and Carson on Atlantis.

"I'm aware." Caldwell smiled tightly. "You should all have seconds in command."

True up to a point, although Bates was looking at going home and he had no doubt Caldwell would personally oversee his own duties. "May I ask why we're being sent back to Earth?"

"For debriefing." Caldwell cleared his throat. "I'm not sure what else."

"We don't want to leave Atlantis," John said, meeting the other mans eyes. They'd shed blood here. Lived, fought and died for this city which made her theirs. "We've done good work here. There's the ATA therapy for a start, as well as all the Ancient technology."

"Your military head is dead. The IOA needs to decide what to do with you." Caldwell waved a hand slightly. "This isn't my fault."

Great. Just...fucking great. John grimaced a little. "Understood, sir." It might affect him, but probably not Rodney and Carson.

"Good. I want to be told as soon as the gate can dial Earth."

"I'll make sure you're the first to know, sir." Once he was dismissed, he could go and try not to think about his job being on the line and losing the family he'd found here.

He needed that family, needed to keep it. Needed what it provided, from the grounding presence of Rodney, to Carson's sly smiles, to Teyla's gentle awareness's, to Elizabeth's leadership.

If they took that away from him, all that would be left was the infamous Ghost, Phantom, Specter, whatever and he didn't want to be a lone black ops agent again. Not after this. If it meant resigning and getting back here one way or another, he'd do it and to hell with Caldwell.

Right here and right now he kept his face impassive at the dismissal when it came and pretended nothing could touch him.

* * *

Stepping through the gate, with fresh clothes and new supplies and having had time to contact his sister and generally settle some things from his life that he hadn't had the opportunity or desire to take care of before he'd left for Atlantis, was a little like a new lease on life, Rodney decided. Mostly because he had new clothes, and personal items that he hadn't before, and new staff to break in.

In the end, there had been politics and arguments and then a private meeting between the three 'powered' members back from Atlantis and O'Neill, and it was as if all the grandstanding being done by Elizabeth to get John promoted was academic. Rodney got the distinct impression John had earned that rank a hundred times over.

John still appreciated her effort though. Even he'd noticed that, if only by watching Carson go a bit misty eyed when he was watching John. It was there, though, and Carson did have that reaction and well, Rodney knew what it meant. John wanted to stay in Atlantis, and that was good because Rodney couldn't particularly imagine life without him.

O'Neill had praised John with a few short phrases, and Carson had said they had obviously been close in the past because that meant a lot to John. It was odd because Carson didn't normally share that sort of information with people, but he seemed to with him.

"Look's like they've done a wee bit of decorating since we've been away." As they arrived on Atlantis, Rodney could feel the City react to their presence.

"Moved things in, moved them around, mmm, that console's new, I'm going to have to talk to Radek..." Rodney reached out, just sensing familiar patterns and electronic signals, and trying to see if any were damaged.

"I've got a new XO." They were being approached by a group of people, one of them being Major Lorne. "I think I can live with it. Did they get the gene therapy?"

"Aye, in the end," Carson said. "It should've taken by now."

"Cool, new powers around. I've gotta know what we've got!"

Like it was that easy, or maybe John was that happy to be back in Atlantis. "Well, I'll leave you to the military stuff -- okay, new scientists, doctors, you're going to be oriented in one hour, so after you're shown to your quarters, don't lollygag."

"Will it be the Ways-To-Die-In-Pegasus speech, Rodney?" Radek asked, stepping up with a smile as he pushed up his glasses. "Because I think that needs updating."

"We need to make the list longer," Rodney agreed. "Carson, do you want your doctors in on this or should I let them be traumatized on their own?" For all that he was the head of science, he tried not to meddle with Carson.

"Considering we end up treating a lot of the aftermath and occasionally rushing into the situations to try and save lives I think there should be a whole staff orientation. Military, medical and scientist."

"Yeah, it would be good to get them together," John mused.

Rodney turned, taking a few backwards steps as he saw Elizabeth come through the gate. "Elizabeth -- Sheppard wants his new military in on the Ways-To-Die-In-Pegasus speech." Rodney grinned, half asking for permission and half making a statement.

Elizabeth smiled a little. "Try not to scare them off, they can get back to Earth now, you know," she pointed out even as Teyla stepped up to greet them.

"Welcome home," she said raising her eyebrow at John. "I should call you Colonel, John?"

"Thank you. I have new brass and everything." Not that he wore it. Rodney waved vaguely at Carson, twisting to catch Radek's eyes.

"Did I miss anything?"

"Only three potential Nobel discoveries," Radek answered. "It was a slow week." He smiled at him. "Machinery getting talkative now there is energy."

"Good talkative, bad talkative...?" He started to walk with him, and then called over his shoulder, "Sheppard! One hour, in the mess hall, your people."

"Gotcha, McKay," John replied and tossed a brief salute to Elizabeth and him before jogging swiftly out of sight.

Carson was smiling. "Heh. He really is very happy to be back," he said nearly to himself.

"Good talkative," Radek answered. "And there is news from beyond the gate. Teyla has had many messages from people wanting to ally with us."

"I'm sure Teyla knows better than any of us who trying that with is a good idea." But they needed allies, because even their relationship with the Genii had been helpful to them in the end. "I'm happy to be back, and I never thought I'd say that."

"Where else could you float above minions like a god?" Radek teased a little. "SGC would not let you."

"The SGC is less than impressed with my 'lack of restraint'. I didn't even do anything while I was there," Rodney scoffed. And he didn't do it on missions unless he had to, but in Pegasus it was easier just to... live. Be himself.

"He was very restrained," Carson confirmed. "My desserts were safe, rather surprisingly. It took me the whole time to realize I never usually ate desserts."

Rodney snorted, and folded his arms over his chest while they walked. "Yes, yes, mock me. I might have overindulged while we were on Earth."

"You will lose weight rebuilding the East pier. Has never been the same since Kolya visited," Radek pointed out.

"Chief Cowan has told us that Kolya is no longer Genii," Teyla reported. "He knows how much difficulty he gave us."

"By 'no longer Genii'," Rodney asked, "what does that entail?" He cocked his head.

"Exiled. He is no longer welcome in Genii alliance worlds." Teyla smiled. "I thought you would wish to know this considering the events during the storm."

He remembered, vividly, the man trying to have his underling knife Rodney, and Rodney having to reveal his ability because there was no way he was going to let himself be stabbed by metal and not fight back. "Good. Not exactly the only thing he deserved, but."

She nodded. "They underestimated you. I also followed you to tell you that we have been offered many items of Ancestor technology. There are those that now view it as your right to have it and have been bringing it to us."

And it was their right -- sort of. Sort of. After all, if something could be done to help, they did everything they could, but if it was sitting on a shelf there was no reason for it not to be used to help people. No reason for it not to be studied. "Huh. That's, and it's all in the lab?"

"Much of it is. Dr. Zelenka has been storing it for you," Teyla explained. "Some I believe will be useless. Others might be very useful. We hope that in time ZPMs will be found."

Rodney felt his face pull into a wide pleased smirk as he looked over at Teyla. "Anything related to power sources is exactly what we need."

"That was my thought as well," Teyla replied with a smile. "There is a great hope spreading though many worlds due to the blow we struck against the Hives. It will mean the Wraith will come again."

"Aye, and with any luck, this time we will be better prepared."

"Better prepared? You do realize that we're sheltering in a ten thousand year old city with systems that are constantly in the process of failing, and with towers that I've had to paste back together? Prepared is just never going to happen." Like with any SGC mission, actually.

"But there is one ZPM and you and Colonel Sheppard managed so much without even that," Teyla said. "I will tell Elizabeth of these developments as will. No doubt there will be missions."

"No doubt." Rodney had almost missed those, but he nodded at her, following Radek into the labs. "I'm sure some of this will be interesting and I'm sure we've got new food sources now...."

"And access to Earth if we need it," Radek pointed out. "Yes, yes. Now, Rodney, you must... catch up"

"Fantastic." Rodney cracked a couple of knuckles, and stepped into the lab. "I think I've actually missed this place."

"I will leave you to your work," Teyla said graciously. "I am sure you have much to discuss."

"Thank you." And only an hour to do it in, but they'd come a long way since the first leg of the mission -- abandoned there, thinking they were never going to get home, to this, to welcoming new crewmembers.

He found himself half relishing the thought of making his mark with new people. They needed to learn how to fear him properly and make appropriate offerings to appease his need for sugar and caffeine.

* * *

Missions had certainly improved since they got back to Pegasus. More of the friendly natives, less of the sacrifice strangers on sight encounters. On the down side, there was the annoying increase in ceremonies and rituals. John smirked a little. They were currently running a competition to see who was declared the 'Chosen One' the most times from various worlds. Rodney had said it made him sound like Harry Potter and then spun off into a diatribe about not being compared to a wild haired bespectacled idiot who was evidently Radek's role model.

In the 'Most likely to be acclaimed a tool of destiny' stakes, Rodney was currently winning, but John maintained that was only because he had been acclaimed by sister planets.

But it was better than it had been. It was calmer, and trading negotiations went a little better, a little more peaceful. John liked that, but he also knew not to let his guard down just because things had been going well.

That was usually when things went awry in his experience. Anyway, today they had an extra on foot with them at the request of the Dilisan people in the figure of Carson who was bickering good-naturedly with Rodney as they walked towards the town.

"Rodney, I've told you before, making things orbit you is not the way to make a good impression," Carson said. "You'll lose track and then beat yourself up with bits of metal."

"When was the last time I did that?" Rodney demanded. He wasn't showing off, but he always had the implements to show off with him, pieces of metal tucked away into pockets to use if there was no ferromagnetic metals close at hand.

"Lose track? When you watched that pretty scientist you were trying to impress walk past," Carson answered. "Speaking of which, we have a few more manifest abilities in the middle zone. It's funny, but the treatment doesn't seem to push much higher than that so far."

John quirked around to listen. "New ones?"

It was hard not to catch his attention there, but he had to wonder who'd manifested now. Lorne had taken, and had mentioned he was seeing Carson about it, but he hadn't said what it was. Most of the new ones still had that vague freak-show feeling about their new abilities.

John still wasn't sure why they'd want it in the first place.

"Mmm. The last round of injections yielded some pretty interesting things..."

Carson snorted. "Aye well, we have a sergeant with night vision. That's pretty impressive. One of the scientists is like a human mass spectrometer. With a sniff or a taste she can tell you an exact composition profile. We have another who can... well, she does something with plants. It's difficult to tell what it is actually. Communication, I guess."

The night vision sounded interesting. "How are they adapting?"

"Well, those with physical powers tend to adapt better than those with mental. Major Lorne, he is struggling a little."

"Why, what did he end up with?" Rodney's attention was caught, John could tell. That meant it might actually be something useful. Or embarrassing, since either one was as likely to get Rodney's attention.

"Visions. Clairvoyance," Carson said. "It is a wee bit difficult to tell if he's seeing the now or the future and sometimes it's just flashes, and sometimes he is driven to draw pictures. Quite an artist is Evan. His mother was one, by all accounts. Anyway, it's not under conscious control."

That was a shame -- a clairvoyant major? Very useful.

"Huh." Rodney glanced to Teyla, and apparently bit back whatever comment about mumbo jumbo that he was going to make. "That's, that could be useful. We can use everything we have at this point, but painted pictures..."

"The Intel would be pretty damn good." John chewed on a stalk of what he now recognized to be sweetgrass, as they walked along. "How did you work it out?"

"When he was going through the transition fever he drew events going on outside in the city, and then even off-world during his stay without talking to anyone."

"So you independently verified that these were things that happened?" Rodney shifted, switched his P-90 to his other side.

"I _am_ a scientist, Rodney, as well as your hard working doctor and hands on healer," Carson answered. "Besides, I asked Teyla to help."

"He had images in his mind of places I know that he has not been," Teyla said walking quietly. She was probably listening to their thoughts as much as anything. John remembered her saying that the closer they were as a team the easier she found it to reach their minds.

It left him wondering if she was listening to him wonder about her listening to him, and if that was a self-defeating thing to wonder.

"Well, that's pretty... definitive." Rodney shrugged his shoulders. The mental component group sort of bothered Rodney, from what John could tell. He wasn't fond of people getting into his head, even without powers.

"Aye well...it's hard on him at the moment. He needs time to get a handle on things," Carson replied. John peered down into the valley as they stood on a ridge looking at the town below. "Tell me again why they need me?"

"They asked for you specifically. You go around saving people, doc," John pointed out.

"Medical technology is usually much more pressing to these people than running water. And by 'technology', I mean badges not covered in dung." He'd missed that sort of sneer in Rodney's voice. Sure, he'd talked a lot back in Colorado, but it hadn't been the same, relieved and comfortable.

"Well, nice to know my name figures in the Pegasus galaxy," Carson said grinning a little . "Along with the mighty Wraith destroyers."

Teyla laughed a little, and John was pretty sure she had picked up on his instinctive need to hide away when that came up.

She still wasn't letting him, but she at least knew of it. "You figure." Rodney jostled Carson's arm slightly. "Just... differently. We can't fight if we're dead."

"Well, hopefully I can help a little," Carson said, and he saw Teyla smile again. She did that a lot around Carson. He had a private theory that it was because the doctor really was a nice as he seemed.

It wouldn't have surprised John at all if he were just that nice at heart. It was enough to watch Teyla smile, while they walked a little further. "What're we here for again?"

"Elizabeth said they have offered us the choice of their Ancient artifacts if Carson can figure how to cure or treat a disease that has been surfacing over the years. Let's just say we're quietly confident you can manage that, doc."

"No pressure." Rodney lifted his eyebrows at Carson, and smirked not too subtly at him. "Of course, now that I've said this I'm still going to have to fix something, won't I?"

"Elizabeth said we should help out where we could and try and make a good selection from the artifacts," John answered.

"I am sure that they will be most grateful," Teyla added. "No matter what you do."

Rodney was probably making his usual checklist of things he could repair or check the working condition of, given different levels of technology. As long as it didn't involve repairing nuclear reactors, the bitching would be to a minimum.

Ahead, John could see the village. They were about to head down the slope when Teyla suddenly stopped holding up a hand to get them to halt. "Wait. I thought..."

"What is it, lass?" Carson asked looking concerned.

"I thought I caught the edge of a hostile thought," she said, looking around.

John immediately went onto alert, looking around, getting into a defensive position looking for cover. They were completely exposed. Shit, shit, and that was the worst position to be in. Rodney shifted, and John could feel him start to push out a shield of EM field. "Shit. Shit."

"Carson! Get in close to McKay!" he ordered sharply, "Which direction, Teyla?" She'd edged away with a hunting look and it was a matter of seconds when he heard the rattling crack of bullets. Training had him phasing automatically so any projectiles passed through him. And Rodney, Rodney and Carson would be fine because of the magnetic shield. Teyla was exposed, and he returned fire. "Rodney! Try and shield her!"

Rodney moved, pulling Carson physically with him, and John guessed she was in the shield area now. He wished it were visible, that Rodney was doing it, that there was something other than a feeling in the air.

"They are coming from the fields to our left!"

That left him and he nodded and headed in that direction. "Fuck! On it. Retreat to the Gate! Now!"

He was going to find out who the hell it was who was trying to ambush them. This whole mission had to be a set up. Too promising, too much of a good thing apparently. He started towards the woods in a run when he heard Rodney cuss sharply, felt pieces of metal whiz past from his team's direction. Maybe Rodney should've tried attacking sooner, but John hadn't been expecting the flash and the force that suddenly filled his vision, knocking him backwards.

Concussion grenade, but...fuck, he had slipped phase automatically and he turned to glance at Rodney and the others to see things going badly wrong. Teyla had been thrown clear and her enhanced strength meant she was stirring. The strange feeling of needing to breathe was creeping over him as other canisters littered the area, venting some gas.

He had to breathe. He had to take air in sometime, except Rodney was crouched, curled in on himself, and Carson was slumped down. They'd probably breathed, and Rodney couldn't shield them from that. Shit, he had to breathe.

He tried to run, out of the zone of whatever the hell it was away from Teyla so they would follow him, and by the time his molecules burned with the need for more energy and he had to whoop a breath he'd hoped he was fast enough, but almost immediately he felt dizzy. It ruined his concentration when he tried to phase again so it was unstable and painful and he had to breathe again and that was enough to send him to unconsciousness.

* * *

  
He could tell he'd been drugged as soon as he rolled over onto his side on what felt like a dirt floor. Possibly wood, covered in dirt, it was one of those hard to tell things, but there was a notable absence of things he could ground himself with. His head was murky, foggy, and that was a bad sign, as bad as the headache he had and oh, oh, fuck, the wetness stuck right in his shoulder, wet wet pain, and that was what had woken him up in the first place.

He'd been shot. He remembered more the shock than the pain when it happened because it wasn't meant to be able to happen. He had a shield that repelled bullets; it had always been a thing with Sheppard about whose method of not getting shot was the coolest.

"Ow…" That was Carson, sounding groggy himself. "Bloody hell...Rodney, stop moving, I can feel that."

"I've been shot!" And it was still there, and he couldn't have been passed out long or he would've died from blood loss, but he felt shaky, and fuck, fuck. What the hell had gotten through to him?

"I can tell, and I've been trying to get the damn thing out while you were asleep, but I only woke up myself a few minutes ago," Carson said.

"What do you mean he's been shot?" Sheppard's drawl was slurred as he pushed himself up. "You didn't use your shield?"

"Oh, god, damn." Rodney closed his eyes tightly to the room around them, and just laid still. "I did! I did and I still got hit and what the hell is it?!"

"As far… as I can tell... ah yes, there's the wee bugger," Carson said, digging it out with something. His fingernails by the feel of it. "It's a ceramic bullet of some kind."

"So, a set up targeting us," John muttered. "If they knew that much. They knew about my phasing too."

"Oh, fuck." Rodney whimpered, and it was stupid, sure, but he couldn't feel anything particularly metallic at hand and that was a bad sign. Their gear, their clothes, gone, because he didn't even have a zipper to pull at.

"Doc, he doesn't look good." John moved over to half hold and support him like that would help and Carson exhaled.

"I know, lad, just… give me a moment."

"We have to get out of here, we have to, John, this is a setup..." It was rising like thick panic in his throat.

"I know, Rodney. I figured that when they jumped us and got the three of us."

Three? God yes, Teyla, Teyla he'd been trying to shield, Teyla, yes... wasn't here so could've gotten away. And his shoulder hurt.

"Rodney, you need to try and calm down," Carson was doing something. "This isn't going to be easy."

Teyla had gotten away. "I'm trying. I'm just..." He didn't move, but he wanted to. Wanted to move his hand when he had to lie still for Carson to try to fix him.

He wasn't sure why Carson had said it wouldn't be easy because when Carson placed his hand over the injury there was nothing but a golden feeling of delicious warmth that radiated from the injury and swept him away on a relaxing haze of pleasurable sensation.

He sagged back against John. "Oh, god, that's so much better, Carson..."

"Carson?" John sounded worried then and it was enough to get him opening his eyes and looking at the healer.

Carson's face was contorted in a rictus of pain, drained and haggard as his breathing came in the shuddering gasps of someone dealing with pain.

"Carson, shit, what the hell?" John was trying to support him now.

"It's... it's normal," Carson gasped out. "Pass off soon." He half-heartedly waved at him to back off.

"That's normal?" Rodney snapped. Oh, hell. He'd just thought that Carson's skill hinged on metabolism, like most of the rest of them, or alertness, or something like that. But he wasn't bleeding to death anymore, and Carson was shuddering with pain.

"Yes well, there, there's a reason I don't heal... everything all at once and that... my staff think I'm addicted to painkillers," Carson managed a few words. "And… that I retreat to my office a lot."

It looked like it was easing up a little. Rodney shifted, moved onto his knees unsteadily. "Hey, okay, then we're not doing that anytime soon again as long as no one shoots me again..."

"Jesus, Carson, you've been doing that all along?" John looked horrified.

"Aye, well, when I asked you to be more careful, it was for selfish reasons," Carson answered, shivering a little and clutching his arms around himself. The shiver could have been from the pain or it could have been from the fact that they were sitting on dirt while naked.

The nakedness was for a reason, Rodney guessed. Better than searching pockets and stripping off zippers.

"Dammit, I thought..." John trailed off. "Look, don't do that unless you have to okay?"

Carson looked at them both and shook his head. "It's not something I can ignore John. I'm an empath, and the healing ability is an extension of that. I don't think you know what that means. If someone in close proximity to me is hurt, I feel the pain. Now you just imagine having a pain that you can't affect, or shift to ease, or press on to get rid of. If I didn't heal Rodney, I would be sitting here feeling his pain as well and you would have two of us incapacitated. Do you understand?"

He reached a hand up to where the hole had been, and felt his thumb slide over smooth new skin. "Then we'll just have to try not to be hurt. Jesus. We have to get out of here."

"No kidding," John looked around. "Okay, let's have a look at this place and our situation. What information have we got? Someone was targeting us..."

"Is it significant that I was asked to be there for this mission?" Carson said. "Perhaps they were after a doctor?"

"What do you have? You have..." Rodney snapped his fingers. "We could just be here for the gene. No, they knew about me. Maybe they wanted -- shit." Them, hell, there was a good chunk of the command staff right there. Rodney shifted, moved to search at the door.

"We all have the gene and it has to be someone who has gotten up close and personal with all of us." John's jaw was tight, his expression grim. "In a combat situation. They knew about your shield, McKay, and my phasing ability. They wouldn't have seen that unless we had been fighting. So that points to someone with knowledge of our abilities and the Ancient gene."

"Wait." Carson was frowning. "I can feel something else. I thought it was just my headache but... John turn around, I need to see the back of your neck."

Rodney didn't want John to turn around, didn't want to look or see, because hell. He was in hell, actively, and leaned against the wooden door to see what he could extend his field to.

John immediately felt to the back of his neck and looked horrified as he turned. "What is it? I can feel something... crap, what the hell is it?"

It looked like some sort of organic spider web with a dark hole in the centre over the back of the neck and it looked disturbingly non-metallic.

"I'm not sure, but it extends into the brain," Carson said in concern.

"Ohhhh, that's bad. And it's not metal, because I can't feel that," Rodney murmured, 'fishing' around with his field for metal. Nothing.

"I… seem to have something around my neck?" John poked at a thin circlet. "You guys don't have that?"

"I'd be willing to bet that it's something to stop you using your powers," Carson said frowning as he touched John.

"Let me just..." Rodney could see and feel John fuzz into his phase mode but at a certain point there was a crackle of energy and the wheezy yelp of Sheppard protesting as he snapped back to solid state. "Okay, that is a problem."

"Why could you use your power?" Rodney asked, looking Carson and reaching to check the back of Carson's neck. Still nothing.

"Maybe...they don't know about my power, or if they do, don't think of it as a threat?" Carson answered. "I'm not sure if I have one or if I can feel your headaches."

Rodney ran a hand over the back of Carson's neck. "You can feel ours, then. There's nothing there. You're clean. I wonder if I can pull at their blood with this in."

"So John cannot phase, and you can't do your magnetism thing. I can use my abilities but they're not particularly useful right now," Carson summarized.

"That's about the size of it," John agreed. "Where we can we need to keep an advantage on our abilities. Carson, if they force you to show them what you can do, make it look as hard as possible. I think it has to be something to do with either the gene or research that they want you for, though."

"They probably want you to make them an Ancient gene carrying, Sudoku winning army," Rodney groaned. "The activated are never as strong as the natural expressions. Oh, god..." They had, had to get out of there.

"There is no guarantee their populations even have the genetic potential for Human 3.0," Carson said. He looked more than a little alarmed. "What do I do? Not tell them? I'm not sure, I'm not sure if I can..."

"If you could even do it," Rodney half guessed, half finished for Carson as he sat down. "We'll have to wait until we can hear their demands."

"You don't give them anything much." John seemed pretty unself-conscious about being naked.

"We won't have to wait long, someone is coming," Carson added, tilting his head a little.

Rodney reached, tried to pluck at the blood of whoever it was. It took intense concentration, to move diamagnetic materials like that, but he could.

"I would stop that, Dr. McKay," a familiar voice said. "Unless you really want to find out what those things in your head can do. You have three seconds to cease."

Kolya.

He stopped, even when he'd started to pull at the man's jugular. It would've taken more than three seconds to get the momentum of blood flow going to rend flesh.

He started to search out for buttons, zippers, anything else instead. Kolya just looked amused. "I wouldn't be much of a commander if I was unprepared for the same way that you took me by surprise as before. There is no metal for you to use, Dr. McKay. Major Sheppard… or is it Colonel now? Congratulations. I take it that you have discovered that you cannot use your unique ability either."

"What do you want, Kolya?" John stood up to cross his arms and glare at him.

Rodney shifted, knew it looked undignified because he had a leg stuck under himself, and there was never anything dignifying about nakedness, but if John could be bold, fine, he could follow suit. It left Carson sitting down, but that was fine. The less attention drawn to him, the better.

"Oh it's not me, although I admit the opportunity to work this job was... fortuitous." Kolya smiled. "We get paid and I get to work with you again, Sheppard. No, my employers were very interested in your abilities and the work of your Dr. Carson Beckett."

"There's no sense in being interested in our abilities when you've crippled them," Rodney snapped, folding his arms over his chest.

"Let's just call it a basic means of getting controlled conditions," Kolya answered smoothly. "And an effective training tool."

"Can I ask what work they were interested in?" Carson asked a little timidly.

His smile was too-sharp, and Rodney regretted that Elizabeth had said that they needed to show restraint towards Kolya, that they all thought that murder wasn't just a bad idea. "Everything."

"Wait, what?" Carson stuttered nervously.

"Dr. Beckett can help medically, all your employers had to do was ask but anything else...." John shook his head. "Abducting us and treating us like this is not going to get on our good side."

"Do you think that I am a man concerned with your good side?" No, no, Rodney didn't really think that at all. He could, maybe, disrupt flow to the man's brain? They capillaries were tiny, he could shove backwards, but he needed more of a visual, a better idea of what he was doing.

"What are you going to do?" Carson asked looking at them all.

"Well, you, doctor, will be coming with us for some... questioning. Dr. McKay and Sheppard will be taken for some training and testing."

"Go to hell, Kolya!"

"You leave him alone!" Rodney pushed at what he hoped were the blood vessels of Kolya's brain, and it was without thinking. He didn't have to think, because that was how he did things.

Suddenly there was a completely paralyzing agony in his head that blotted out everything, making it impossible to do anything but collapse. When he came around he could hear John shouting, and Carson's hands on him soothing.

"Oh, oh, fuck, what the hell was that?" He had his hands up to his own head, clutching at his temples.

"That, Dr. McKay, is what your inhibitor can do. Useful isn't it? Apparently it can be programmed to do things we can't imagine. Pleasure and pain. Which would you prefer, Dr. McKay?" Kolya said in amusement.

Rodney preferred to clutch at his head, curling in on himself. "I'm always using my ability. This is insane, I can't..." Be controlled like that, handle being controlled like that.

"Oh, you will," Kolya said and gestured to the soldiers. "Take the doctor to our hosts. They've been looking forward to meeting him in person. And let's take these other two to the labs. There are some scientists particularly interested in your... talents."

The men grabbed at John first, and one of them leaned down to pull Rodney up. "How do you expect me to do anything when my head hurts this much?"

"Oh, I think you'll do anything I say one way or another," Kolya replied. "Move, Dr. McKay, or you will be dragged."

He hauled himself upright, stumbled to his feet still clutching his head. "I'm moving. Still. I'm..." He was moving… slowly. Moving and rough hands were hauling him into place and the unknown stretched before them in the form of a featureless corridor that went on forever.

Rodney had never been more glad that he'd pushed Teyla away than he was now.

* * *

It was worse than Carson had imagined, and he had a rather vivid imagination at the best of times. Right now, the Mengelens… no, that was probably his subconscious that was calling them that. Was it Mingelens? Myngelins? Or something. Mengelens would do for now, anyway, them -- they were treating this whole situation as some sort of personal vendetta. It wasn't possible, but the were treating him as if he had personally come in and committed a heinous crime.

Ironically enough, they seemed to relish the excuse to hurt him though the irony was he was better prepared to deal with that than with someone else being hurt. Still, John had said to play weak, so he was.

"Please..." he tried again. "Please, stop... what do you want?"

"Everything. How did you do it? How can you just hand out the gifts of the Ancestors like that, how did you come to have it?" Demands, simple, unyielding demands.

"I was born with it." Carson answered one of the questions. He was careful to leave the surface appearance of injury even as his body tried healing itself. "I have the gene."

The man pacing around him had introduced himself as First Medical Scientist Shem. He looked like he could've stepped out of a lab in Atlantis, aside from the fact he had a group of soldiers to tie Carson to a chair and beat the crap out of him.

"Where did you get it? Who were your parents?" Like it was their fault or that First Medical Scientist Shem would even understand the terms he was talking in.

"Look, we're not from around here," Carson said plaintively. "My parents...fuck, they would just be names to you. Brigdhe and Sean Beckett. That doesn't mean anything! That won't help you."

"What planet are you from?" He folded his arms so calmly over his chest that Carson's stomach churned. He'd seen John move like that, when he was trying to conceal anger, and doing badly at it.

He could feel the resentment bubbling in the man and a dark urge to lash out. "Look lad, I can't tell you that. You know more than enough about us as it is. This isn't helping anyone!"

"Why have your people got the gene when they shouldn't, when no one else has it in any useful amount?"

"Presumably because we have it in our genetic line. If you know about it, then you must be aware of it. Do you have it?" Carson tried to turn it back on the other man.

"One of the few." And it had probably garnered him a fantastic status among his people. "You say this is genetic."

"Yes," Carson looked at the man. "Look, some people have it, some don't. Simple as that. I'm sure you know that already. All this… unpleasantness is unnecessary. You want information from me... fine, I'll cooperate if you let Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay go."

The man shook his head. "No, no, I've been told that your Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay are quite powerful, gifted with abilities beyond anything we have seen. We want that. We deserve that." The man jutted his chin at one of the soldiers. "Kolya says that this is not entirely natural among your people. That you have turned some Genii into gene carriers."

Shit, they already knew about the gene therapy. "Their abilities are natural," he admitted. "Rare. One in several million with any type of power." He shifted against the bonds uncomfortably. "The Genii talk about the gene therapy I developed, which will activate an expression of the Ancestors' gene if it is present. The other is not so simple."

"I do not care if it is hard or simple, you will provide it to us," their first medical scientist declared, and Carson could suddenly understand Rodney's intolerance of people who didn't grasp what seemed like simple scientific concepts. Here he had a doctor, who didn't seem to think.

"If you let the others go," Carson tried bargaining. "You don't need them and if I know them they will cause you more headaches keeping as hostages. Surely it's a good exchange? I'll help you develop the gene therapy and you let them go."

"Or I could force you to help me develop the gene therapy and keep them no matter what." The man lifted his chin slightly. "Do you see, that you're in a position of weakness here?"

"Has the notion of collaboration entered your head?" Carson was trying to find an emotional crack to work on, but the man had an insufferable sense of superiority that was blinkering him to the possibility of working with someone.

"Why should I collaborate with you? What do I have to gain from that?" He was laughing, smiling, as if Carson were the insane one.

"You might gain an alliance rather than an enemy," Carson cajoled and it was like talking to a brick wall. "You don't want my people as enemies. We have enemy enough in the Wraith."

Shem shook his head. "This was not my decision, but I support it. What else can you give our people?"

"Why should you expect me to volunteer information to someone who holds me captive?" Carson answered knowing he was inviting retaliation. But he had to establish that it would be easier to work with him and that way he could bargain for... something. He had to make his cooperation vital and valuable rather than given away free.

"Because we -- I -- can make your life a living hell," Shem told him simply, leaning in close to Carson, face down level with his.

The man didn't believe it would take much; he could feel that. He was cold and calculating, with a streak of ambition and ego that blazed stronger than Rodney on his worst days. He might delegate the messy aspects but he would not allow someone to block his way to his goal no matter what had to be done.

But pain... pain was something he had lived with all his life from the moment his powers had been awakened and he'd found himself swimming in a world colored by it. He could hold out a while and that might be enough.

He turned his head and clamped his jaw shut, his intention plain.

He didn't expect Shem to smile.

* * *

John wasn't exactly sure how this was particularly beneficial to anyone. There had been measurements, and sensors and once they were sure that they could apparently stop him from exiting the room with a magnetic based force field that had to be similar to Rodney's shield, they took off the thin collar and told Kolya to 'put him to the test'

This seemed to mean getting people to attack him, shoot at him to make him phase or fight.

Which was stupid, because Kolya knew that he'd just phase, in and out and in and out again, moving flicker-fast into phased when bullets came at him. There was no way they could've been taking anything useful from the 'test', nothing tangible and replicable.

They tried a little hand to hand with him. That was more difficult in some ways because if people got behind him they could hit him when he had to breathe and they got a few in, but not much. He had to play it like some martial arts film, kicking off into phase so he could leap over people heads, consciously willing a foot or a hand back into semi phase enough to impact them or push off. He kicked ass like that even if it meant things got difficult in the breathing stakes.

However after a couple of hours, things took a more interesting turn.

"Commander Kolya, we need to test the control mechanism," one of the scientists said looking at them both. Thank god he'd been allowed clothes, presumably out of deference to their scientists' sensibilities.

"My pleasure." He waved to the scientists, a curt gesture with one hand as he drew a knife. "I believe you have experienced this forced tangibility before, Sheppard."

John tilted his head a little. "Forced tangibility?" he asked as blandly as he could.

"This is going to be a pleasure for me. Do you spend much of your life avoiding contact like this?" The man lashed out, slashing at his arm.

He phased but there was an odd tingling sensation in his head and it was like he needed to take a breath almost immediately.

"Increase the signal," the scientist. "He can override that level. Again."

Kolya nodded, and took another swipe at him with the blade, vicious and smiling.

This time the tingling was stronger and he felt the blade tug inside his flesh as if it were a sludgy congealing mass. "...shit!" he managed as he snapped back into solid state. "What the hell?"

"One more level. Impressive, he has a lot of control, last time, commander…"

They wanted Kolya to stab him. That was it, they just wanted him to actually stab him, and John couldn't see what the hell the point of that was. Kolya smiled broadly, and lashed out with the knife one more time.

He tried to phase but it was more of a glitch that anything else and he had to throw himself sideways to avoid the blade. It scored him a little all the same, a sharp stinging pain on his arm.

"Perfect. I believe your ability to control his ability will be more than sufficient." The man was smirking as he stepped closer to Sheppard, knife still in hand.

"You bastard," John felt his arm, his fingers coming away sticky with blood. "You enjoyed that."

The implications were sinking in, and he didn't like any of it.

"Why else would I volunteer for this?" Why else. Kolya gestured to the scientists. "What else do you want done with him?"

"We want demonstrations of precise phasing. Accuracy and focus," the scientist said. "The means of testing this, I leave to your imagination Commander."

It was horrifying to lie there, starting to stand up, watching Kolya think. There was no way that any of the thoughts the man was thinking were anything he'd call normal. "All right. Take him back to the setting level he could barely over come."

He hated that tingle in his head, but he knew then this was going to be bad. Really bad.

He could still fight though, physically. He could do that.

"Go to hell, Kolya."

"I want this testing to be as accurate as possible. Now, we have not tested Doctor McKay yet, but you can imagine how creative I may feel towards him. Perhaps in exchange for your cooperation, I will go easier on him." Kolya lifted his eyebrows at Sheppard, and swiped at him with the knife as he knelt down.

"Yeah, I have a lot of confidence in your word." John swayed out of the way. "You want good old fashioned torture don't you, Kolya? What are you, a whips and chains kinda guy?"

He hoped he was reading him wrong, but Kolya had too much interest in him. "Does it matter to you, or do you have a preference?" He moved fast now, trying to pin John down to stab at him better.

Goddamit, he had to grapple with the guy rather than fade away, catching at his arm. "Just… interested. I'm seeing a preference for knives," he gritted out trying to hold him off. Soldiers surrounded them; it wasn't like he could do much except postpone the inevitable.

Kolya was going to make him phase, if the setting change had actually worked. "Hold still and let me see if this works," he snapped.

"Give me one good reason why I should," John answered in a near hiss of a response.

"Because I could try to see if they correctly returned your settings, or we could engage in my next test and you'll die."

His options were narrowing down and he could feel it. "You back off McKay and I'll cooperate."

"Cooperation is as much in your interests as mine. We will both want you to be able to phase for this test," Kolya insisted.

"Back off McKay," John insisted looking him straight in the eye. "Back off him and I'll do your damn test."

"You fail to see how little choice you have, Sheppard, but I will agree." Kolya shifted, tried one more time to nick him with his knife.

"Am I meant to be phasing or not?" John said, in what he knew was an infuriating tone of voice. He allowed the contact, concentrating on phasing where he could.

"You are meant to be preventing your own injury, as precisely as possible. Henet, bring me restraints." Kolya leaned back, gesturing to one of the men there.

Jesus, this wasn't going to be pleasant. There had been a few occasions on Black Ops when he'd been captured. Injuries made it harder to phase and every now and then he came up against one of the other 3.0 humans who seemed to end up in the military and things could get unpredictable. Torture was not completely unfamiliar to him. Looked like he was going to get up close and personal with it shortly, even as the restraints were brought over and fastened on him to Kolya's direction.

Just simple hand to hand, ankle to ankle hobbles, with a chain running between them. Rodney could do so much with that much metal, could have liquefied it and spun it at them like cotton candy. Kolya pulled at his shirt, pulling it up over his head and letting it bunch around his handcuffs. "Push your pants down."

He stared at Kolya. He should've known, had known from the moment Kolya had played cat and mouse with them and he'd won, and Kolya had just smirked at him when they ransomed him back to the Genii.

Not the first time though. He did it slowly.

"How old were you when this ability began?" The mild headfuck factor of it didn't surprise him -- John would've been more surprised if it wasn't there.

"Thirteen," John replied. He remembered it. Gangly, thinking his bones were aching with growing pains and being dressed down by his father in one of the most spectacular arguments of his life. He'd wished he could just disappear, that the ground would swallow him up... and he'd fallen through the floor insubstantial as a shadow.

His father had never looked at him the same again.

"How did you learn to control it?"

"Didn't for a while," he said honestly. His teenage years had been difficult, to say the least. Getting angry, freaking out, they brought the phasing on out of control so he learned how to be laid back. Annoyingly laid back with an attitude that irritated the hell out of authority. "Got it eventually."

"How? Did it take concentration? Practice?" Getting grilled while he stood there with his pants down was... surreal.

"Both." No secret there. That much should be obvious. "Then some training with the military." Martial arts, black ops all of it. Right from the outset.

"Tell me what you did to practice. Did you put your hands through walls? Through people?"

"Actually, I tried not to do any of that," John said, calming his breathing. "You've kinda got it the wrong way around Kolya."

"Then by all means, explain yourself." Kolya seemed patient, and enjoying John's humiliation.

"There were times when it was... an effort not to phase. Being a teenager is a socially awkward time," John said as mildly as he could. "Wishing to disappear was probably common to most kids of my age."

"Within your people, perhaps." Kolya had probably made other teenagers disappear. "I would focus on phasing only the part of you that is facing knifepoint, or this could be very messy for the both of us."

"Fine." John replied. It was hard to do, a skill he'd had to perfect over time but he could do it. While he was doing that, he wasn't trying to fuck him or do whatever the hell he was intending with pulling his pants down.

"Good. On your knees." Unless he was, because he was unbuttoning his fly. Oh, that wasn't a good sign, not at all.

Not McKay, not McKay..He shifted moving carefully. "Not quite seeing how that's going to test much," he drawled looking over his shoulder.

"How fine a level of concentration you need. What you can do under... pressure." Once he was on his knees, Kolya pushed him forwards, so he was on hands and knees, and knelt behind him. He didn't do anything yet, just positioned himself.

Rape and a blade. Great, there was probably some sick porn title out there called that. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," John answered.

"Have you ever phased into an object?" Kolya moved, pulled at John's asscheeks with lazy fingers.

"Briefly," John said tersely, grimacing. "Painful." That was an understatement.

"How did that work out for you? Were you able to put yourself together?" Kolya stopped touching him for a moment, and then a slightly wet finger came back, tracing at his asshole.

"I was quick enough. But some of it stayed bonded, had to have it cut out." He braced himself trying not to react, trying to keep an eye on where the knife was.

"What was it?" Kolya slipped that damp finger slowly into his ass, and an ache pushed in with it.

He tried not to close his eyes, because the knife was close against his skin. "Spikes on a wall that came out as I was rephasing. Left a couple of inches of one in my back."

It made Kolya laugh, still inching that finger in slowly. If he was going to try to fuck John, he was going to need more than spit to do it. "How did you come to a place that had spikes on a wall."

"Oh, a commander like you sent me there," he said flippantly as he could manage. "To get someone out of a prison." O'Neill had gotten himself caught and drugged out of his head and... he got grabby when he was high, but escaping then had been pushing it.

They'd made it, though. They'd made it, and he needed to focus on that thought because if he and O'Neill had gotten out of shit like that, he and Rodney could get out. "I assume they survived." He shoved that finger in, all the way, hard.

He winced and exhaled, noticing the blade pricking at him as well.

It was just a fucking. He'd found the odd anonymous fuck back when he was just running black ops. This wasn't that different. More goddamn painful but not different. Not all that fun and probably not a good idea in the long run, but not that different. "Now, phase for the blade, Sheppard."

He inhaled and let his cohesion slip, but across his whole body before remembering Kolya had a finger in his phased self somewhere. He grudgingly re-coalesced around him, balancing with the phase around the blade.

"Good, good. You wouldn't want that stuck in the wrong place, and I don't think I would, either." Kolya must have signaled something, because the knife was removed for the moment.

He could breathe again even if he could still feel Kolya there. He could do it, but it required concentration. "So...that's the deal, you stick fingers in my ass and try and use me as a pincushion?"

"One of my men went looking for a suitable oil. But yes, that's the 'deal'," Kolya remarked coldly.

"Somehow, I think this is going to be more fun for you than me," John replied. He was refusing to be humiliated by this. It was just part of the way things were.

"Such witty banter. Can you keep that up, as well as you can your phasing?" He started to pull his finger out, and that burned just as much as it had going in.

"Well if it keeps annoying you then I can try," John said wincing again.

Kolya moved away from him, leaned back for a moment, and John didn't look back. He didn't look back because he could blank his mind and relax at last, pretend he was completely alone in the world.

He needed a Zen place to concentrate and let this happen and not fight. He wanted to but he was in a secure area, his phasing was controlled, outnumbered, separated from McKay and Carson and.... he could idle out the abuse. It wasn't like he had a choice.

* * *

John had been brought back bloody and wrung out, naked and limp in the guard's arms when they'd laid him down in the cell, and the guards gestured for him to come forwards.

It wasn't something he wanted to do. Not seeing John like that.

It scared him; he was man enough to admit it. If Sheppard was like that what would they do to him?

Sheppard could dodge, and phase, and Rodney knelt up, reaching for John. "Jesus, what'd they do to you, Sheppard?" The longer he could put off being dragged out of the cell, the better.

"Fun... and games with Kolya," John managed shivering a little. "They got... something that can stop you using your powers."

Now that? That was frankly terrifying.

The guards looked impatient, and one of the men gestured at Rodney. "Stand up, you're next for testing."

"I'd rather not, thanks," Rodney uttered, helping John lie down.

"McKay, don't provoke them... Don't want them hurting you more than they have to, " John murmured. "They'll make you."

"Make me what? You can't, you can't make me do anything," Rodney snapped as he started to stand up. "They still haven't brought Carson back. If you've hurt him..."

"There's nothing you can do about it," the guard answered and grabbed hold of him. "I wouldn't keep the commander waiting. He gets irritable and you wouldn't want that."

"Oh, fine, like making him happy is going to make my life any better," Rodney muttered, letting himself be dragged along.

It wasn't a long trip to the labs and there was metal there, he could feel it. That gave him a glimpse of hope.

"Welcome, Dr. McKay. Turn up the inhibitor, that should make sure you don't get the wrong idea about things," Kolya drawled looking like he had just had a shower.

He probably had, the freak. John had looked horrible, and that blood had to go somewhere. "Then why am I here?"

"The scientists want to explore your abilities," Kolya murmured. He was looking at him with a faint smile. "Stand in the room. Answer the questions. How strong is your shield, McKay?"

"It's not a shield. It's an electro magnetic field." Rodney crossed his arms over his chest as he walked into the room, glad to be free of the guards. "And strength isn't a good measurement term."

"Then what is the greatest force you have repelled?" Kolya asked. There were Perspex shielded areas that he moved behind and gestured to some of the guards who pointed guns at him.

"A Wraith dart in motion. Maybe more -- I don't have much opportunity to see what my limits are, and if you're going to shoot me again, you're wasting both of our times."

"They'd really like to take some readings," Kolya smiled a little and gestured and the guards opened fire.

He didn't think about the restrictor, just flung up his field to stop the bullets in the air, and oh, god, metal, he could feel it, liquefy it, remold it, and start to try to fling it back at them.

There was a tingle in the back of his head then and the metal felt like it was slipping from his grasp draining from his mental fingers.

"Good, Dr. McKay, good. Now we're going to try and see how good you are at stopping a variety of substances," Kolya said. "I hope you prove more versatile than Colonel Sheppard. I'm afraid he needs significant training."

"I'm sure you did things to him that no one would come into contact with in day to day life," Rodney murmured, reaching out again, trying to see what was left after that tingle.

He could barely make a piece of metal twitch but he remembered Sheppard's advice to pretend to be weaker. He let it drop.

"Have you been his for long? He tried to bargain with me for you." Kolya smirked. "It was very touching. I had to make sure he felt he was getting good value."

"I'm not..." Rodney waved a hand. "I'm not anyone's. He's my commander -- which means something to us."

"So he's on top when you fuck?" The tingle vanished, but a variety of missiles were fired at him, some slippery and difficult to grip.

No doubt Kolya though he was a distraction.

Maybe for a more mercenary mind, he was. Except Rodney regularly talked and used his power, so it wasn't as if he couldn't repulse the weapons. "Har har. That's a great joke. You should try standup."

"I do hope that wasn't an insult, Dr. McKay," Kolya said approaching. "What else can you do?"

"Give me something metal, and I can show you." He held a hand out, hopeful.

"Oh, we might try that when you are properly restrained," Kolya said gesturing to the guards. "On the table there please. You'll know we're using leather straps with a ceramic polymer buckle just for you. I did bargain with Sheppard not to rape you, but I didn't say anything about hurting you."

Rodney closed his eyes tightly. "Oh, fantastic. Look, what's the point of this? I'm unique, one of a kind. There are billions of people on my planet, and just one, uno, eine, Rodney Moves Metal McKay."

"That is the point." Kolya leaned close as they buckled him down. "They'd like to know what you can do and how and to use your talents for the good of their people. Altruism is a marvelous thing."

"Kidnapping people and using them to do things against their will -- oh yes, that's how I'd define altruism." Too close for comfort, and the tingle was there. He could still reach past it, but maybe it was better that they thought that the tingle crippled him completely.

Kolya chuckled in seeming good humor. "Question and answer time. Repel the blades if you can. Now Dr. McKay. When did you first get the power?" A blade moved sharp trying to cut skin.

He repulsed it, and decided to stick with the much simpler act of putting out a close to skin shield, and he was so glad he'd 'abused' his abilities for all of those years, because it really was as easy as breathing. "I was a teenager."

"What happened?" A different blade, less easy this time. "Explain how it manifested."

Less magnetic content, so he pushed back harder, a flick of a thought. "I smashed my alarm clock through a wall one morning, and that was that."

"How prosaic." Kolya seemed a little disappointed, swapping to another that pressed through skin. "Do you become stronger under pressure?"

"I prefer to be proactive rather than defensive." He pushed back at the blade, kept it from cutting skin, and then concentrated to break down the bonds between the magnetic and the non-magnetic parts of the alloy. It took more concentration, sure, but it was a small push of power, under the radar of the restriction he was on. It wasn't as effortful as trying to pull Kolya's blood out of his veins, but it wasn't as effortless as that would've been, either.

The blade crumbled and Koyla looked at it. "Interesting. Can you multitask McKay? Can you shield and act under pressure?"

"If you ratchet back that restrictor on me, yeah. I can do amazing things."

"Oh we have to be sure we can control you," Kolya answered. He pushed a knife into skin.

It was getting annoying, and Rodney pulled at the purely magnetic parts of the alloy, and watched the crumbling begin. "Why?"

"Because you and Sheppard will be doing us some important favors," He answered.

"'Favors' -- you know, I'm perfectly versatile with my abilities as is. I don't need training or testing..."

"Oh I can't imagine that you've put any effort into honing your abilities," Kolya replied. The next knife had barely anything in it to tug at and he wouldn't be able to avoid a cut before it fell apart. "Sheppard has done a little, but you...oh, I sincerely doubt you've done anything more than play. We can rectify that before we send you on missions."

"You don't even know what I'm capable of," Rodney gritted out. "But my ability is magnetic. You can't expect me to do anything with these ceramic knives."

"I expect you to try," Kolya murmured. "Pain can be a great teacher. Perhaps you can expand your abilities. If not..." He smiled a little. "Your Colonel Sheppard did kill nearly sixty of my people."

"Wouldn't have happened if you hadn't invaded our city," Rodney gritted out, laying his head back on the table he was strapped to. "This is absurd. Why are we playing knife games when I could've taken this place apart if you didn't have this restrictor on me? I could peel the walls down."

"Because we need to know your limits. That doesn't help you in a Wraith ship does it? All those organic walls." Another slice of the knife. "Try harder, Dr. McKay."

Insane. The man was insane. There wasn't anything in particular, and he didn't have the reach with the restrictor in place to push back that hard on a diametallic, but he did have the breadth of reach to pull a scrap of bullet off of the flood and smash it through the blade. "I carry my own."

"Interesting technique," Kolya smirked at him. "Can you make a weapon out of spilled blood? Your own?" He moved swiftly then, cutting him in a long sharp line on his chest.

It was an idea. A definite idea but one worth keeping as a means of escape. Which meant he would have to fail now.

"You're going to go through a lot of knives," Rodney murmured, picking up another nearby bullet with his mind, and crushing the handle of the blade with a thin layer of metal. No handle, no pressure.

"Interesting though." Kolya answered. "They wish to know the sort of things you do with your ability."

Of course they did. They also wanted the ability for themselves but it wasn't the same.

"Then they should turn off the restrictor," Rodney murmured.

"Let's see if they will do that. They can make it feel very good to obey orders, Dr. McKay. Killing people would be a definite cause for punishment. You know how a little of that feels." He pushed himself up and moved behind the screens. "Drop the restrictors."

"Oh, thank god." Rodney could feel it, and he sagged back for a moment. They needed to work out how to drop the restrictors, and they needed Carson and John in the same place if Rodney broke out, because there was no sense in staging a huge breakout unless he could work out a way to disrupt the frequency or however they were communicating to the restrictors.

He absently started to gather up the bullets, wadding them up into a smooth liquid ball.

This was a matter of excitement for the watching scientists.

"Dr. McKay, they wish you to launch it at the target at the highest velocity you can manage." Kolya indicated an area of the far wall. "Have a little incentive."

A tingle grew into a feeling of almost sexual pleasure in his body, growing by the moment with an instinctive knowledge that following orders would result in an orgasm or relief.

"That's absurdly distracting," Rodney commented, "and you don't want me to do that. It'll go through the wall, and I have no idea if this is an underground or above ground facility."

"The wall is reinforced and there are a variety of energy shields there," Kolya answered. He gestured. "See it as a means of striking a blow against your incarceration."

He snorted and started to reshape the formless ball of metal before flinging it like a javelin at the target.

It did vanish deep into the wall and caused a great deal of excitement among the scientists present.

"Good, McKay," Kolya said. At a gesture, the intensity of arousal peaked. "Very good. It's so much easier to be cooperative, isn't it?"

Oh, fuck. Fuck. Rodney squirmed, trying to keep his mental hold on that metal, pulling it back by plucking at the edges of it until it came closer into his consciousness, recalling it. "Y, yes, I suppose it is."

"It's important to be able to work though distraction. Let's see how you do. Hit those five targets." He pointed and the feeling surged up again until it was nearly impossible to breathe.

He regathered himself, sectioning the metal off quickly, and repeated it. It was child's play, but he was going to be starving afterwards.

Kolya seemed to delight in keeping the tasks going, seeing him strain to pull himself together and push the ache of his balls to the back of his mind to do as he was asked, over and over. They repeated the same sorts of tests; more flinging of metal, threading it out into a whip, a net, blades, and all the time he was as hard as nails and almost in pain from not being able to come.

It was insane, but it was better than the knives, so Rodney cooperated, even as his arousal ratcheted itself up and up. "Please, I can't..."

"Do you want something, Dr. McKay?" Kolya murmured getting closer to him again.

"I want to come," Rodney whined. "Please, I can't, I can't just keep doing this..."

Kolya smiled a little at him. "You have been very good this afternoon." His hand slid over the thin cloth, roughly.

It twinged, hurt, his dick responding too damn eagerly to that touch. "Oh, oh hell..."

Kolya moved closer rather strangely leaning to kiss him, even as his hand gripped around his cock, slipping in to find it. "I can give the best climax you have ever had at a word." He murmured. "I can do that." He rubbed his thumb lazily over the head of his cock.

The fact that Rodney was strapped to a table didn't seem to faze the man, and Rodney shifted, tried to push his hips up. "Please, please... I want it."

"Yes, you do," Koyla replied, then there was the heat of his grip around him and moving in firm demanding stroke. "Come for me, Dr. McKay... come for me."

Rodney lifted his hips up to that grip, breathing hard, and hell, he was just going to let go, just going to thrust and enjoy the relief at last. He'd been too wound up for too long not to go with it.

Kolya stroked him off until he climaxed and it was with a burst of pure pleasure he couldn't deny. "Good boy," Kolya murmured kissing him again, but his eyes were calculating and cold as they looked down at him. "I think we've achieved enough for one day."

"I'm going to need to eat. Sheppard will, too. It burns energy to do this," Rodney murmured, dredging up that thought disjointedly.

"Having sex?" Kolya laughed. "Very well. We will remember this. Food will be sent later. Take him back to the holding area."

The tingle of the restrictor was back on as the guards moved to untie him and lift him away. "Have a pleasant evening. You better hope Dr. Beckett has been as cooperative."

He was going to keep lying low, just like John had said, and god knows what Carson had been doing. Hopefully he'd be back.

* * *

He'd lost track of time somewhere, and he knew he looked a bloody mess as they literally dragged him back. It had been touch and go as to whether Shem would let him back. There had been a few things said when they thought him unconscious and he should've been unconscious but wasn't and he was trying to hold on to them.

One of which was that by virtue of Rodney's abilities and John's, they had no means to monitor them in the cell. There were no electronics, and the walls were too thick to listen through by conventional means. That was interesting in itself and he let himself be tossed in loose limbed and apparently semi-conscious before they left.

It was good to know. It meant they could scheme -- any listening device would've been too much metal near to Rodney for anyone's comfort.

The other had been that apparently they were going to be feeding them all to 'continue performance', whatever that meant. Food was generally a good thing.

"Shit, doc?" John sounded horrified and touched him and immediately the pain of his injuries rather than his own flood him and made him groan. John really was a stoic idiot sometimes.

Which was rich coming from him.

"What the hell did they do to you?" John asked, helping him sit down on the floor.

"Pretty much what it looks like," Carson managed. "I'm not as bad as I look. You on the other hand are worse than you look."

"There was a lot of phasing. I just feel out of sorts." Like a full body ache, was what he looked like. "Did you see Rodney?"

"No, I was elsewhere," Carson sat up running a hand over John's skin, sensing. "Not just phasing, John, was there?"

He turned his head. "Carson. I appreciate your concern, but you need to make sure you're okay before you worry about me."

"I have," Carson gestured to the bruises. "Kept the window dressing so they'll go easier on me tomorrow. And there will be food enough later."

"There will be?" John looked a little surprised. "How did you find that out?"

"Let's just say there are times I should be unconscious and I'm not," Carson replied. "Let me deal with your internal injuries at least. Kolya?"

"Yeah. We don't exactly have access to painkillers here, Carson, so go easy on yourself..." John looked unhappy about it, but he wasn't going to say no.

"At least this way it's one big pain then it goes," Carson said. "Besides, it does make sense for you to be able bodied. Right now you couldn't take an opportunity if it danced in front of you naked." He placed his hand over John's lower back and just let his energy mingle and the healing begin. He wasn't sure if it was almost like his body accelerating the healing process and some sort of resistance to that or all the pain of a healing wound crammed into the short time it took him. Doing it slower generally was easier somehow. Not too bad, easy enough to tolerate.

He could take the time, and John sat still, slowly relaxed, and Carson took that as a hint that it was going well for him, that he was feeling better.

Carson had to stop when the door opened again.

He made it look like he was half sprawled being held by John rather than him doing anything else. Rodney, he'd recognize that presence anywhere.

All nerves. He stumbled into the room, and twisted to make an obscene gesture at the guards before he sat down in the middle of the floor.

"Hey, Rodney," John said. "Come and join the party. How're you doing?" Physically he didn't feel too bad. A couple of cuts but...that was it.

"I'm tired, but..." He rolled his shoulders. "Not bad. I'm okay. You two look like hell. Kolya..."

"What did he do to you, Rodney?" Carson asked sitting up. He could heal and talk at the same time and Rodney had emotions all over the place.

"It was just humiliating. I'm physically fine." Rodney shifted closer to John and Carson, still keeping an eye on the door.

"Humiliating can be worse sometimes," Carson put in feeling a hint of agreement from John that he didn't comment on. Not for the first time he wondered about the Colonel and what they didn't know about him. "I'll deal with those cuts after John. What did he do? It's important to know so we can be prepared."

Rodney leaned back against the wall he was nearest to. "The implant can simulate pleasure. I felt like Pavlov's dog."

"That's a problem," John said in a low voice. "That's... we're heading towards brainwashing and conditioning here."

Carson nodded. That was more insidious than drugs. "We need to get out of here sooner rather than later. They'll try all methods on us, I suspect. The First Scientist who was interrogating me wanted to cause pain, though, otherwise I suspect that they would've done that with me."

"They might move to that next," Rodney shrugged. "And I might get what John got. They might just keep us on our toes so we don't know what's coming next."

"We need to talk about what to do," Carson said. "One thing I did pick up was that because of Rodney's ability, and yours, John, they cannot monitor us in here. The walls are too thick and they can't risk listening devices. In effect, we're locked in a soundproof room."

"That's good." Rodney crossed his arms. "They're not device proof rooms -- we still have these things in our heads."

"True. Can you use your powers in here at all?" Carson asked. "I don't have one so I can't feel how it's working."

If he could work it out and deactivate it, then they could escape. With any luck.

"There's a setting on the inhibitor where they think I'm completely controlled, but I'm not." Rodney reached to squeeze John's shoulder.

"Good work," John nodded to him. "Where did they get to with you Carson?"

"No big surprises, they want the ATA gene therapy and the 3.0 human powers. I was resisting on the principle of trying to bargain you both out of here, but I think they have different plans for you," Carson replied. "They don't know about my abilities at all. I'm guessing stories about cures have been attributed to skill. They definitely don't know about the more emotion-based facet of my powers. Not that I tell many people about that, but it certainly tells me that our captors believe themselves superior and we are... well, like the prodigal sons."

"Well, prodigal sons or not, they want to put us to work," Rodney pointed out.

"So the situation is, you they want as a mad scientist, us they want as soldiers," John drawled. "We've gotta get out of here."

"Agreed," Rodney murmured. "They're going to train us up like dogs, and I don't see it getting better. We need to figure out how to break these restrictors -- barring our own people finding us, but hey, I'm not going to hang my hat on that one."

"Teyla got away," Carson added, putting a hand on Rodney and gritting his teeth as he healed the cuts. "It is possible."

"We should work on the principle of getting out of here ourselves," John said.

"So, do I continue resisting?" Carson queried. "I can up to a point. Do I keep my abilities under wraps?"

"Without question," Rodney murmured. "Keep that one hidden."

"They might notice you are both healing but..." Carson took his hand away from Rodney trying to control his reaction. "But they might assume it's part of the powers."

"They think I'm amazing. I can see how they'd attribute it to me being me." Rodney stretched out, lying on his back.

"Hey, I'm not so bad either you know," John pointed out. "Look, Carson. Hold out a while then give in. You can't realistically take that sort of punishment forever without them figuring you out. We need you as an ace in the hole."

Carson laid back as well, closing his eyes. "Some ace."

"You're a huge ace," Rodney encouraged, turning his head to look at Carson.

"I'm not going to be that much good to you both unless I can figure what to do. Or if we can figure a way around the inhibitors," Carson exhaled. "What do the both of you know about your own powers? How do they work?"

"Hmn?" Rodney looked confused. "What do you mean 'how do they work?"

"What exactly happens? I mean... John, how do you phase? Rodney, how does your magnetism work? How do you make liquid metal? We tend to take our abilities for granted, like the mechanism of breathing," Carson pointed out. "Maybe we can get creative."

"It's..." Rodney was the first to answer, because he'd probably been more scientific in testing his abilities. "I can manipulate them at the molecular level. Diamagnetic things take more concentration."

"How? Is it... energy? What are the determining factors?" If Rodney's blood sugar dropped then he had to be using energy to do something.

John looked like he was listening carefully, frowning a little.

"I... I don't know. I want to say it's telekinetic. I can concentrate down to a molecule and pull it away with an application of the EM field. I spent the afternoon doing that with alloy knives."

"And you can draw strength from energy sources?" he asked. "And you John."

"Not sure how mine works. I sort of... slide between molecules," John said. "I think when I phase my molecules shift slightly so they don't interact in the same way. Not sure how."

"That's a question for a physicist I think."

"Being in my influence usually pulls you back together," Rodney pointed out.

"And I can disrupt you if I push hard enough," John replied, raising an eyebrow at him.

"It would figure that would be the way. Opposites attract," Carson joked a little. "You work on the same forces in different ways."

"Fantastic. Now if we could get these things out of our skulls, we'd be set," Rodney remarked.

"It's important Rodney. It's possible that I might be able to act as a battery of sorts for the both of you," Carson said. "If I can tune in enough. My ability effectively works by making someone else an extension of myself in terms of energy fields and then mending damage. It's more complex than that but that's the basic."

"A battery to what end, though?"

"Well, yes precisely," Carson sighed. "Only useful if we have an aim. Perhaps after some food I'll try and do a detailed sense of the thing in your head."

"Sounds like a plan, doc," John replied. "You should rest though."

"That sounds like a good overall plan," Rodney agreed, stretched out on his back again. He didn't startle when the door opened again, and Carson watched the guards come in with a tray.

"Looks like dinner," John said, peering at them. "You know, if you're going to work us hard, we'll need more than that. McKay burns up that much on his own."

The guards didn't say anything but put it down, and Carson could feel their wariness as if one of them was going to leap up at them. Too alert. But one of them listened at least, he could tell that much for all their silence as they left.

He reached for the tray and looked at it. "I'll try a bit, see if it's drugged or safe," he suggested taking a morsel from each item on the tray. There was a fair amount there, but Carson knew Rodney could eat phenomenal amounts when he really got going.

Who knew what they'd had him doing? He could have expended a huge amount of energy, if they had him throwing metal around. "Are you sure you want to?" Rodney shifted, started to sit up.

"Aye, I can feel an effect rapidly and deal with it if necessary," he said gesturing to himself.

"You know, doc," John drawled. "You're surprisingly versatile when it comes to having you along as a prisoner."

Carson snorted. "Thanks... I think."

"We should take you with us to all of our kidnapping and imprisonments." Rodney shifted, shimmied in close to John and Carson.

"Much as I love you two, I think I'll pass," Carson said absently and then froze as he realized he'd actually said 'love' instead of a more emotionally acceptable 'care' or 'like'. That was the problem with being an empath; you couldn't help falling in love with the really good people, there were no barriers there to stop him going over the edge head-first.

Neither of them seemed to catch it, though, and Rodney snorted, eyeing the bread. "So, is it safe?"

"Well...." He grinned a little tearing it into three. "Quite nice actually. A little nutty." No drugs, no citrus, no allergens in anything he had tasted. He threw a bit to Rodney and then to John.

Rodney caught his in hand, and seemed to be trying to savor it.

"We need to focus on keeping our heads together," John remarked, fingers tight on his piece.

"Aye well, right now they're very wary and vigilant," Carson said. "I can tip you off if someone is particularly inattentive. I may not be able to read minds but I can tell that much."

It was more than he told anyone about his abilities and he knew it would make John uncomfortable at least. The fact that he'd known what Kolya had done already made John uncomfortable. "Good. Then we can know who to look for a slip with."

He was a doctor though and that meant keeping a confidence one way or another. He ate his bread, and the other foods that were largely unidentifiable but tasty enough and then even as John and Rodney began a slow, slightly halting banter that gathered pace around him, he settled down, a hand on each of them and let his attention drift, trying to find answers to their dilemma before he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

This was new, and new in John's experience was usually bad. The days had settled into a routine of what seemed to be crude but somewhat effective torture and conditioning on Rodney and himself in separate rooms, and Carson, after he had appeared to break down and give in spent his days at the lab trying to reconstruct the gene therapy.

No sign of rescue, no gap to exploit and no plan as yet, which was frustrating the hell out of him. But today Rodney and himself were taken to a different room and things were progressing from bad to worse. This wasn't training; this was hurting them for the sake of hurting them. He couldn't figure why.

So far it had all been in the guise of actually training them, eliciting a response. This was... this was something else, and John couldn't figure out why. "Hey! Hey! Knock that off, I need that!"

"You heal." Kolya replied watching with his arms crossed. "You know this could be stopped at any time. It is a sad thing that it has come to this. We were progressing so well."

"What the hell are you doing to him?" John tried to twist to see what was happening feeling the sickening jolt he got from trying to use his inhibited talent instinctively.

"What the hell -- I didn't do anything, how the hell am I supposed to, fuck, fuck, oh, god..."

He heard Rodney make a more serious sounding whimper of noise that meant he had been really hurt and he started struggling in earnest then, pushing hard at the block in his head. "Fuck! Kolya! If you've..."

"Patience, Sheppard, your turn in a moment. Tell me, would you like your right or you left leg broken?"

"Neither!" Rodney managed to be loud through the whimper. "What's the point of this, why're you..."

"Incentive." Kolya replied. "Very well, Dr. McKay, if you don't want either broken then that will fall to Sheppard."

He gestured and a moment later a guard was standing over him with a goddamn mallet. "You have got to be kidding me.."

"Incentive for what?" Rodney twisted, and John could see him struggling, but he was kind of more focused on the guy with the damn mallet.

"Go ahead." Kolya gestured and the mallet came down hard.

The yell was spontaneous and half agony and half shock at the bone snap on his right leg.

"Incentive for your Dr. Beckett. Your hosts want results more swiftly than he is obliging them with."

"He, he can't work any faster. It takes time..." Rodney's voice was a whining struggle from the other table. "Jesus, you people are sick."

John was still trying to get his voice back. "Hurting... us is not going to... help."

"It is a little annoying, but you heal and the doctor is obviously sentimental about you both," Kolya murmured. "Now then, which one of you would like to try the fire?"

"Yes, fine, we heal up but you lose days of useful work, and suffer training setbacks!" It wasn't as if John was going to volunteer for fire, anymore than Rodney was.

"Both then." Kolya seemed to be enjoying himself. "A small blob of flammable substance on each please."

It smelled like rocket fuel.

"We need time. You're going to kill us like this!"

"Dr. Beckett needs incentive. Goals, target." Kolya sounded smug, delighted. "Ignite when ready."

There was nothing quite like the feeling of fire on skin.

It had to be a kind of lighter fluid, and Rodney was already crying out on his table, while John struggled not to give Kolya that kind of satisfaction.

Kolya watched for, god, John didn't know how long because everything was wrapped up in the animalistic fear of being on fire and the pain.

"Well, well," Kolya murmured. "It would appear we have a result. Rumor has it that Doctor Beckett is on his knees begging for your lives."

"Son of a bitch, stop chitchatting and put us out!" Rodney snarled, possibly screamed, pulling hard at the bonds on the table.

"Mmm. Put them out." Kolya ordered diffidently. "That is slightly disappointing. I was hoping he would be made of sterner stuff."

John breathed through the pain, trying not to choke on the smell of things. That was bad, that was very bad, life-threatening. John had thoughts of shock and dehydration, and Rodney's hysterical voice.

"Take them back to the holding room," Kolya said smiling and turning away. "We'll be doing this again tomorrow if he doesn't perform."

John felt someone haul his straps apart, apparently expecting him to stand up.

That wasn't going to happen. He had a broken leg, which folded up underneath him the moment he was upright. "Fuck!"

"Take him. Talk to your companion when he returns and convince him to work faster."

"You can't just..." Rodney's voice was weaker, but he was still trying to talk reason while they hauled him up. He was bleeding, and John couldn't focus his eyes well enough to tell what was bleeding.

They were taken back to the holding cell and it took a little while to reorient himself. When he did he managed to reach for Rodney. "McKay? What ...what did they do to you?"

"Set me on fire?" Rodney whimpered, trying hard to stay still. "Cut off something down there, can't tell, it all hurts..."

"Cut something off?" John dragged himself over in horror, looking over Rodney with a shaking hand and seeing a source of blood that made him freeze. "Tell me they didn't...crap, Rodney...easy there."

What was a broken leg to having one of his balls removed? Jesus.

Rodney reached down unsteadily, and seemed almost to want to clutch it. "Oh, oh, fuck, I'm going to die, I'm going to bleed out and die..."

"It's gonna be okay Rodney. We just have to stay okay until Carson gets here." He fumbled around for one of the few garments they were allowed and ripped strips off. "I'm going to try and stop the bleeding okay?"

"If the shock doesn't kill us first," Rodney murmured, voice cracking. "Fuck, fuck, this is insane, we have to get out of here...

"I know Rodney, shit, sorry," John said, fighting back a dizzy nausea as he put pressure on his leg. "Here, here." He dressed the wound. "We will get out of here, Rodney, promise. We're going to find a way."

"They set us on fire because they think they can't kill us!" Rodney snapped. "This is, this is horrible, they're insane..."

"Yeah, I think our strategy backfired on us," John answered. But it would be worse if they knew, he was sure of that. "C'mere, you don't want to go into shock."

"C'mere, what?" Rodney didn't seem inclined to move at all.

"You need to get warm, we both do." He tried to find a comfortable way to hold onto him and settled for 'painful' as opposed to agonizing. "Shock and all that."

Rodney exhaled, clutching weakly at John. "Jesus, this is bad. This is hell..."

"Just hold on, Rodney," he murmured. "Just hold on. Carson will fix us up when he gets back."

And suffer for it. He didn't know what he could do for Rodney, but he hoped if nothing else he could stop the pain.

* * *

He couldn't believe that after he'd been on his knees, begging for their lives, that they hadn't returned him to the cell. But they hadn't, they'd put him back into the lab, as if expecting that his great leap would happen now. Magically.

He needed to be back there, he needed to see to them. He had felt himself reaching for them impossibly far away as if that would help. So he'd worked almost frantically, begging with no sense of dignity whatsoever to be allowed back to them. They were his, they were his whole world here, and he did not want them in pain.

He knew it was going to be bad healing them this time, but they had been hurt because of him.

If they were dead by the time he got there, then he'd be able to do nothing at all for them. So they simply had to be alive when he got there, there was no other option, and he needed to see them, and he never should have stalled with the retrovirus.

The problem was now, it wasn't as easy as it appeared and doing manipulation with his talent was hard and he had taken months tweaking things just right before. It wasn't the main bulk that took the time, it was perfecting it.

Finally, his pleading must've irritated Shem who petulantly ordered him to be taken back if he couldn't keep his mind on his work, and for once they didn't have to push him to get back to the cell. He practically jogged, leading the way, feeling them before he even got inside.

The pain hit him like a brick wall as he half ran to them. "Rodney! John! Oh God, I'm so sorry... here... who's... what happened to each of you?"

They were huddled in the corner, and John was holding Rodney close. "Take care of Rodney first. Are you okay?"

"For once, I'm fine, but worried sick about you both," Carson said. He placed a hand on John and immediately felt the burns, the broken leg, and then on Rodney and grimaced. "Oh...crap."

Rodney exhaled, and managed something like a cracked laugh. "Ran out of, of the energy to complain a while ago."

"Okay, well this isn't going to be pleasant," Carson murmured half to himself. "Rodney, I'm going to have to do your main injury last all right?"

It was going to put him out. Once he committed to it, if it took as a regeneration that would be him out of it for most of the night. He moved to cup a hand over the main burn on each of them. They were incredibly painful in themselves but they would heal.

They'd heal well, and he was careful not to over-heal them, leaving the painful surface of the wounds. "Look, just, just leave it, I don't want you over-stretching yourself, and it's not like I needed it..."

"Don't be bloody ridiculous," Carson answered. "It doesn't work like that. I can't stop myself, Rodney, once I'm in proximity and there's nowhere in this cell where I wouldn't be. It might be that it's been left too long to be effective, but I don't know that." The reflected pain of the burns was making him irritable and he moved to deal with John. "This will hurt a moment when I set it, then it should be fine."

"It can wait, doc," John said looking at him.

"Look… neither of you are doing me any favors by being stoic here," Carson snapped. "I'm responsible for this, anyway."

Broken bones actually weren't too bad if they were simple breaks. John's was a little tricky but he didn't zone out completely while he was working on it. "You need to know that I'm likely to find it difficult either way," he said conversationally. "There is a strong chance I will become unconscious afterwards and...." No, he wasn't going into that now. "And be in extreme pain for some time. I used to get a morphine shot or something on Atlantis. Obviously not an option. If you have anything you need to say to me, now is the time."

"If we have to force-feed you later, promise not to bite," John offered, while Rodney shook his head.

Carson wasn't looking forward to it, but it was Rodney, and he sincerely doubted that his emotional attachment to Rodney would be satisfied with anything less than regenerating. That was the determining factor. The lengths he could go to were determined by the depths of emotion he felt for the person he was working on. With Rodney and John, there weren't any limits, and it was a sad fact that he existed in a world where he knew most people really didn't feel the same way about him.

"We, we have to get out of here, Carson. We need to devote all of our time to that..." Rodney shifted, trying to keep himself from squirming and folding in on himself.

"I've been trying," Carson answered. "I've been trying to map the thing in your head and I'm not sure what I can do. I need to work out how it works so I can interrupt it. I think... I think I can if I can just get to grips with the biological mechanism. Can we buy a little more time?"

"Until they think you need to be inspired by us being cut apart again," John pointed out. "Which puts you out of commission."

"So I give them what they want?" Carson suggested. "And you do? Do the mission, lull them into a false sense of security?" The sickening ache of a broken bone was settling into his awareness.

John grimaced, and then exhaled as his pain settled away into Carson. "Everything they want. That we can give. When we get out of here, we can have Rodney tear the facility down around them."

"It'll be my pleasure."

"We'll need to get you a bit of metal," Carson said and inhaled. "Okay then."

His hand was shaking as he turned towards Rodney.

It was maybe already too late for him to regenerate, but that wouldn't stop him from trying. He felt John steady him, a hand on his shoulder as he got close to Rodney.

"Sorry for the… intimate touching, Rodney," he apologized, cupping his hand over his missing ball. "It'll feel better soon, I promise."

And then he let it loose, unable to hold it back any more and within moments he knew he was in trouble. There was no hesitation, his energy was just flinging itself against the boundaries or healing and smashing through them. There was going to be regeneration and the backlash was going to be terrible.

Pain, pain, pain he could deal with but, then regeneration exploded, drawing energy direct from him, literally ripping it out and he was dimly aware he'd started screaming. If he kept it up, the guards might come, and he was half-aware of John holding onto him, steadying him more than Rodney, and then him trying to pull Carson away from Rodney.

He couldn't stop him but... but it didn't stop. For the first time in his life, it didn't stop when he broke physical contact. It kept flowing and he kept thrashing around until he felt John put his hand over his mouth to muffle him.

He let himself drift then, lost track of time until he surfaced, weak and shaking.

"Carson?" That was Rodney's voice, and god, that was a good thing to hear. "Hey. We saved you food. Hi, are you in there?"

"...yeah." He managed to move. "Please... How long was I out?" he asked weakly.

"I think it's nearly morning. John and I've been taking shifts to sit with you." Rodney moved, reaching for what looked like a jug of water. "Here, we'll start with this."

"Thanks." He slurped at the water. "I never really enjoy that sort of healing. How is it? Things felt a little strange to me

"You started screaming, and John pulled you off of me, but it... kept healing." Rodney tried to steady him while he helped Carson drink. Rodney was usually bad at that sort of thing, but the fact that he was trying spoke volumes as to his guilt.

"But I can't do that," Carson said frowning to himself even as he took a drink. "I have to be touching."

"Easy, doc," John murmured. "You've had a rough night."

"No, no. This is important," Carson insisted. "This is... this is something new."

"Good new, bad new? I thought you were supposed to be sleeping," Rodney commented to John.

"I don't know new," Carson managed. "I might've stepped up a level in ability or.... I was supplying you with energy remotely. That's got to be useful."

"Speaking of energy, you've got to eat. They'll be here soon enough," John pointed out.

"To start another day of fun," Rodney muttered, voice tilted bitterly as he reached to pull some of the food over.

"So we act cowed and try and do whatever it is that they want," John said. "Then tonight, Carson tries and uses his new whammy to work out how the things work and to turn them off."

Carson grabbed for the bread and ate it. "Okay. I think I might be able to do something now." He just needed to get really close to them to do it.

"Yeah?" Rodney looked startled as he handed Carson a piece of what they'd decided was fruit. "What is it?"

"The more intimate, the closer the connection I have with someone, the more I can effect their physiological state," Carson replied. "Although I've never reached a point with someone when I could do that hands off. You are currently unique in that respect, Rodney."

It was strange to watch Rodney's cheeks color a little. "Well, uh -- here, try some of this. We're probably going to have a long day ahead of us."

He nodded, eating what was offered and feeling a little surge of what felt like hope from Rodney and a dark twist of despair from John that he couldn't figure the context. It was strange sometimes; knowing what people were feeling didn't always give him the whys and wherefore. He was still as much in the dark about that as anyone would be.

At least now, they had some sort of a plan.

* * *

He felt like they were living a bad movie.

Not just any bad movie, but one of those bad action movies from the eighties, or some sick version of battle royale -- complete with restrictor collars of their own sort, and while they wouldn't blow up, he and John had been thrown into a Wraith planet and told to take care of it.

"So. Any bright ideas?" John whispered next to him. "Or even a clue where we are?"

"Near a gate that they're guarding so we can't get away?" Rodney suggested as they took a step forwards.

"How long did they give us to deal with the Wraith before they started cutting bits off of Carson?" John asked as he looked around at the area.

"Twenty-four hours." Which was a lot of time and not enough at all, and Rodney was tired already.

"Okay, well… I guess we've got to figure strategy," John looked at him. "We've got our powers back, we can work with that. Problem is neither of us do well with organics."

"Which is the makeup of a Wraith base," Rodney agreed, still looking forwards, trying to get his bearings. "I need to find metal."

"They have metal here," John said as they ducked behind some cover to look over their target. "Hey, Carson is always talking about thinking laterally...Don't MRI's work on magnetism?"

"Yes, John, they do. And this is important because?" He was already feeling out for metal. "That's why I can fly -- I manipulate EM fields."

"It's important because it makes you our portable scanner. You can MRI the base, tell us what we're up against."

"And look for what?" Rodney shot John a glare as he focused on dragging bits of ferrous metal towards him.

"See how many Wraith are in there, and if they've got some convenient power source we can overload," John said.

And that was apparently the extent of his plan.

Sometimes Rodney loved John, and sometimes he wanted to smack him for thinking on the Lassie level of logic. "Oh, sure, I'll just try that and it'll magically work and this will be the only mission in our lives that hasn't gone to hell."

"You keep telling me you're a one man natural disaster with that talent," John grinned, looking entirely too happy. He was snapping off lengths of branch behind him. "C'mon McKay, don't know about you, but I've got my talent unlocked, Kolya isn't trying to fuck me... over, and we're not tortured. All in all, it's a plus point."

"You're almost high off of it," Rodney murmured, settling into a better crouch. "Okay, we'll see what I can do."

"Look, we do this, Carson gets a break, he manages to sort out the off switch in our brains out and we get to try and get home," John said. "It's been a helluva long time. Elizabeth will be going nuts."

"I think we're going nuts," Rodney sighed, squinting towards the half tree-covered organic mass. Sure, MRIs worked on magnetic resonance, but the important part was the imaging factor and Rodney didn't know how to translate that in his head.

"You getting anything? Rooms? Life signs? Badly guarded reactor or something?" John asked after a moment's silence. "Because if not, I'm going in there and winging it."

There was something almost a bit manic about John right now. He knew they sometimes did different things to each of them but he hadn't really seen how John was brittle and sharp about things until now.

He had to go with sense instead of MRI. "Shut up and give me time. This is missing the imaging part of the MRI. I can feel people, I think it's one of those cell formations..."

"How many?" John hissed in a low voice. "Wraith or human?"

"Wraith, Wraith, more Wraith. They feel cold, dead, low activity -- sleeping," Rodney remarked, closing his eyes and trying to sweep what was actually a thin field further into the facility. It was almost too much information at once and he had to process it slowly.

"Like the sleepers we met on Bug planet?" John asked, seemingly happy with his pile of sticks now.

Rodney wasn't sure what he was doing with the pile of sticks, but he was going to leave John to it. Neither of them was working with a full sanity level just then. "Yeah. Hold on."

"Holding," Sheppard stood up looking ready to move. "Fuck. Same plan. Take out the queen. Blow the place up."

"What're you saying 'fuck' for?"

"Thought there might be human's here we could free and get a message out there to Atlantis or one of the Athosian allies." A little of the manic energy damped down.

It was always disconcerting when John showed he was forward thinking. "There we go. Good plan. Stay still while I try to see what else is in there." It was almost exhausting, and John really had no idea what he was asking Rodney to do. "Okay, there are humans in the second floor, towards the center."

"Uh-huh, anything else?" John asked, ready to move, and practically quivering with the need to act.

"This is a huge facility, John. Give me time," Rodney snapped.

"Sorry." John did sound remorseful. "Sorry, I'm kinda… wired."

"Yeah." Rodney exhaled hard. "Yeah, I know. I know, okay, and I want out of here just as badly as you do, but I've only done half of the base so far, all right?"

"You do the rest and I'll go in, okay?" John said glancing at him. "Can't be easy."

"I'm going in. What exactly are you doing with those sticks?"

"Make a fire." John deadpanned. "They're weapons. If you get enough metal, I'll have a sword or something but sticks work. I phase them and poke them into a Wraith's head and let go."

"Okay." That was more prep than Rodney had given, and he pushed forwards with the scan. "Okay, we've got power on the base floor."

"Check. Second floor first, get people out, then blow it up," Sheppard commented. "So we're sticking together in there?"

"Of course." He was working not to give John a look of 'are you crazy' so soon after the last one. "Okay, let me work on getting metal."

"I'm used to doing this sorta thing alone, Rodney," John replied. "Besides, Carson wouldn't be very happy if I brought you back hurt or dead."

"Look, I'm not defenseless," Rodney snapped. "If I were, oh, insane, or trained black ops, I could be quite dangerous."

"I didn't say that, Rodney, just that... I don't want you in more danger than you have to be, okay?" John shifted uncomfortably. "I've done a pretty shitty job of protecting you up to now, I just thought I'd try and improve the track record."

"Two of us have better chances than one of us," Rodney pointed out. "Trust me on this."

"Yeah," John replied. "So, do that last area and we'll get this show on the road."

"Working on it," Rodney reminded, pushing forwards slowly with his mind. So many life forms, so many of them sleeping. "Looks like their cavities for hibernation are to the outside of their ship or base or whatever on either side."

John nodded, very obviously mentally calculating the odds and possible routes. "You know, they could've given us some weapons, would've made this easier."

"They expect us to make them. I suggest we start small, and steal them," Rodney murmured. He leaned back on his heels, trying to get his head back together. "Let me make you a knife."

"I've got sticks, but I wouldn't say no to a blade," John said and he rather unexpectedly steadied him with a hand in his lower back. "You okay there?"

"I'm trying to work out how we're going to do this and I've already stretched my ability to new places, with no hope of food anytime soon..."

"Look, conserve your energy until we need it," John replied. "I haven't used mine yet so we'll rely on that. We'll go release the humans first, see if we can get a message out of here, then try and blow up the place. How does that sound?"

"Knife," Rodney pointed out. "And I'm trying to gather up enough pure metal for my own use. Hold on here."

It was self evident to him they were heading into ridiculous danger territory and John wanted to run in. "Holding."

Holding, holding, and he'd already told John that at least ten times. But with the silence, he did find what he was looking for, dragging it towards him, shifting it out of particles of dirt, keeping the purest pieces to himself and the rest he fashioned into a knife for John to add to his sticks. "Okay."

"Let's go." John took the rough knife, his sticks and was heading off towards the base, moving light and shadowy over the ground and gesturing for Rodney to follow, finding an entrance and slipping inside the base.

John was moving too fast, quicker than he did on usual missions, strung out, and Rodney half expected him to slip through a wall and forget that Rodney was following him.

He didn't though, maybe because the organics screwed with him and living tissue was present in a lot of Wraith walls.

The first guard they found, he barely saw John move. He floated up to the Wraith and slipped one of those ridiculous sticks into the base of its skull and let go. Just like that the Wraith dropped to the ground, dead.

It was efficient, Rodney had to admit. He shifted, moving the orbs of metal down to his palms, feeling its familiar hum against his skin. He wasn't going to make John do all of it alone.

He was heading up; they were heading up into cocoon territory. They were going to trip an alarm somewhere along the way, then all hell would break loose.

John was ripping open the first cocoon, pulling a terrified man from the inside out into the corridor. Rodney grimaced, trying to scan past that area, post those pockets in the walfor incoming Wraiths. "Make it quick, Sheppard."

"You tell them what to do, I'll get them out," John said moving fast, slicing cocoons, sawing at them, panicking human bodies spilling out in tangles of goo and tissue.

"You've... you've got to help us," the first man choked out. "Gotta..."

"We're getting you out of here," Rodney assured. "We'll take you to the exit, but you must be quiet."

"Who... who are you?" the man asked. "Where are your warriors?"

He was looking around as if expecting a squad to turn up. He guessed they appeared a little disappointing.

"It's just us. We're Lanteans, Sheppard and McKay, if you could tell any Athosians you might run into..." Rodney moved to help another newly freed out.

"Tell them... tell them what?" the man asked looking at the two of them in disbelief.

"Tell them to get a message to Teyla of Athos. We're still alive, still trying to find a way home," Sheppard said. "Look at the address when you go through. Tell them where this planet was. They might be able to figure something out. That's all we ask."

The next two cocoons were empty, and Rodney nodded at John. "Lay low, I'm going to get these to the entrance and we'll go back in."

"By the way if some guys at the gate say anything," John said. ""Just say we let you go without asking anything okay?"

If they remembered their own names, it would be a miracle.

The fact that they'd gotten a few people out was a miracle, and Rodney moved quickly, scanning, utilizing it in a small area field, scanning, heading in his direction, gesturing for them to take another route when he could feel Wraiths too close for comfort until they reached the entrance.

So far so good. A neat operation right up to the point when they let them go, and the alarms went off.

"Oops. You ready for this?"

He gestured for them to run, and they didn't hesitate, taking off at full speed. Rodney turned back to John. "Yeah. Let's blow this place up."

John's grin was sharp and as they reentered the outpost Rodney saw for the first time the reason for all the mystery gaps in John's records that he hadn't yet had the time to hack. It was like being in some martial arts movie complete with ninja's running up walls, half flying and dancing on air. He wasn't sure how John was phasing with such control, resolidifying the blade at will while he jumped and spun.

But the Wraith were relentless.

It was easy to fall into a rhythm, though -- Rodney fell into a pattern of flinging tiny bits of metal into and then through their skulls, coordinating it with wide sweeps of his hands.

They made a good team, their abilities flickering on and off. The only problem was they would run out of strength. Couldn't help that. Every deflected stun, every thrown bit of metal sucked energy.

And the Wraith kept coming.

But Rodney was pointed in leading the way towards the energy source that he felt was a power source, a perfect way to blow the place up.

Sheppard was close to him as they entered the chamber, covered in black Wraith ichor. "Rodney... Got any ideas how to overload this thing?"

It was all thick cording and what looked like a reactor at the center, and Rodney reached fingers for it, sensing through it. There was actual metal at the core, rather than organics, and he was glad at that. "I can take this one, but we need a way out of here."

John looked at him "So... no time delay, huh? I've got an idea. "

From the crazy look in his eye, this was going to be interesting and probably suicidal.

"Are you going to share it?"

"More like you will. I think I can phase us both if you hit me with enough energy." John absently killed another Wraith, almost automatically. "Been thinking about it. It's not like Organics are completely impossible, just really really hard."

"Really, really hard," Rodney agreed, laughing but not really feeling it. "Yeah. Okay, watch my back while I get in here and...."

"I can do that," John smirked. "Just give me warning when you hit me, okay?"

"Will do." But for the moment he needed to crawl under the machine and activate what he wanted to do. He couldn't reach it with his hands, but he could reach it with his mind to start shifting pieces.

"Getting a bit... busy out here, McKay!" John called out to him. "Any time now would be good."

"One second..." He clicked what he was using as an internal fuse to the 'on' position, and then pushed all of his power at John. "Now!"

He wasn't expecting John to yell, though it shouldn't have been surprising. He also wasn't expecting John to literally pull him in, against him almost lifting him and the strangest feeling in the world fuzzing over him. As if he were having an out of body experience with his body, half flying apart, half tied together.

He couldn't think to move because he was still pushing as much of his energy at John as he could manage, focused on that, focused on staying with John and just hoping they survived it.

Somehow they were running, or John was running and carrying him insubstantial as ghosts through Wraith, through walls, through the explosions that engulfed them before they reached the outside.

It was going to be touch and go, he could feel John straining hard to keep the phase going even as the explosion lapped over their phased form.

But they made it outside, into the alien foliage and the moment they unphased, they collapsed.

He was panting, breathing hard, and every cell in his body felt like it was shaking. "John? Oh, fuck, that was amazing..."

John was still clinging to him, matching him in breathing hard and then rather unexpectedly he leaned in and kissed him with all the fervor that an adrenalin-fueled near-death experience could bring.

Rodney didn't protest, because it was John and they were alive, and they'd done it, so he leaned into John and kissed him back, kissed him hard. It was all breathless passion and felt like a pure jolt of energy going through him so it was all the more surprising when John pulled himself away. "Fuck, I shouldn't have… I mean, you and Carson..."

"Me what huh?" Rodney blinked, still trying to catch his breath as he lay back on the rocks.

"You and Carson, you know." Apparently that was meant to be meaningful somehow and sometimes he really didn't have a damn clue what John was thinking. "...him being in love with you."

"Oh. He..." Rodney leaned up onto his elbows, and he was already plotting ways to sneak metal back into their room with him, even if he couldn't use it because of the inhibitor. "He is?"

John stared at him. "Are you serious? You really haven't noticed? He keeps slipping and calling you love and... wow, I thought I was bad at this." He didn't move any further away though, just hovered there, close but a little apart.

Rodney opened his mouth, and then decided to close it. "Look, uh. This is just a horrible, bad time to worry about this, and I'd rather sort it all out when we're not being used against each other."

John nodded a little and his hand curled around the back of Rodney's neck as if he couldn't help himself. "If you're not... can I…" He leaned in and kissed him softly and more tentatively this time. "Blame it on the amazement of being alive?"

"No, we can just talk about it later. Later." Rodney leaned into John, and pulled at him. "Random question, but can you swallow something for me?"

"Well, I was thinking about sticking to kissing, but yeah Rodney, I'll swallow something for you." His expression made the offer completely open.

It took a moment of thought, but Rodney offered up one of his metals, hardening it into a smooth bb. "Wishful thinking."

"Spoil sport," John said. To his credit he didn't ask why, but took it and swallowed it. "If they scan me, I'll phase it. All of Kolya's spot precision training will come in useful after all."

"Sorry about this," Rodney shrugged, shifting a little. "I want to be pre-armed whenever we stage our breakout."

"Good idea," John agreed. "I'm pretty bushed. How's the blood sugar?"

"Wiped." He'd be lucky if he was able to stand up. "We should stagger back to the gate."

"Yeah. Let's not make it look too easy," John answered pushing himself up. "Feel free to complain a lot when we get there. They might believe it."

"I'm planning on it." Rodney got to his hands and knees, and it wasn't going to be a far stretched exaggeration. "Lots of complaining. I'm starving."

"Here, let me help you up." John pulled him to his feet. "It's like a movie."

"What is? Our lives?" Rodney could see that, could see that comparison, except that they were trapped on an alien planet and would be met at the gates with their escort.

"Yeah. Impossible odds, two heroes staggering out of the sunset." John got Rodney's arm over his shoulder, carefully.

"Back to their small, shitty cell," Rodney agreed. If they killed the guards at the gates, they'd still be missing Carson and Carson would be missing a body part for every hour they were gone over deadline. He knew that wouldn't be an idle bluff either

"Take the magic out of the moment, McKay," John answered. "We'll get out of here. Hey, maybe Lorne's seen us in a vision or something."

Or those people would get back to the Athosians somehow. Rodney could hope. "Yeah. Maybe. Or maybe he's seeing visions about soap operas that'll be made in thirty years."

"Buck up McKay. I can phase organic with your help," John replied with a tired smile "That's going to be valuable. Gonna keep that one quiet."

"Oh yeah. I think we can keep most of this to ourselves," Rodney agreed, leaning into John as they walked.

"At least until we get to see Carson." The pair of them worked on appearing worse than they were, weaker than they were, because at the end of the day, that was the only weapon they had.

Hiding what few secrets they had left

* * *

There was a Wraith base exploding from the inside out, and Rodney was at the heart of it, Rodney and a shadowy shape, and then Rodney became the shadowy shape, and Lorne had no idea if that was a real vision or a suggestive one.

He just couldn't get the hang of his ability. It drove him nuts trying to figure it out and he wasn't sure how much help it was in their search for Colonel Sheppard, Doctor Beckett and Doctor McKay.

"Major." Teyla rested a hand on his shoulder. "What is it that you saw this time?"

"I saw a Wraith outpost exploding." It was useless information, though he hoped it implied that they were still alive. "Dammit, this is useless."

"No, it is not. With each new image you see, we come closer to finding them," Teyla said. "Ronon said he would help us find them and he has been to many worlds. Were there any distinguishing features about the outpost? Was it connected with Dr. McKay or the Colonel?"

"It was Dr. McKay. In the outpost, and it was the interior, and from what I saw, it's exploded, which is probably its distinguishing feature." Lorne rubbed at his face, but he left his mind open to Teyla, hoping that it might help.

She could sometimes see and recognize details from his mind that meant nothing to him. A weave of cloth only found on certain worlds, the look of a person from another.

"They destroyed a Wraith Outpost?" Ronon asked suddenly. "Just the two of them? Sound like my kinda people."

"Yeah. They're pretty..." Lorne dredged up a smile. "Sheppard's a great officer and McKay was a great scientist. They have Doctor Carson with them, and you would've liked him, too."

"I like Dr. Keller," Ronon said and rolled his shoulders a little tugging at the healed scar where Keller had removed the tracker after they'd run across him, looking for clues for their missing personnel.

Teyla smiled a little and turned to him. "There were people on the edge of your vision. Ronon, do you know of a world where the men wear a braided, colored head band?"

"Weros or Xanthlia," Ronon replied easily enough.

"See, I'd be completely useless without you two to tell me what I just saw," Lorne pointed out. He always preferred to share the credit, because while the visions were his, he was useless with them.

"That is a matter of experience. I have been to Xanthlia and they were not the same," Teyla said. "We shall try Weros and see if they know of these people." She made it sound so easy and rational and all they were going on was images in his head from an ability he didn't understand.

"Okay, if you know the address, dial the gate, Ronon," he suggested.

How could they even trust the images? Lorne didn't trust them, and he was the one having them.

"No problem." Ronon grinned over his shoulder at them before he reached for the DHD.

The chevrons locked one by one as he looked down closing his eyes a little. It was almost like he was trying to have another vision but it was just out of reach. He pushed it back as the wormhole engaged and Teyla and Ronon lead the way through the wormhole.

Weros had been culled but in the last few months and a lightly done so there were people there, skittish and afraid of anyone.

Lorne kept his hands off of his P-90, kept his attention around him, didn't lose himself in a vision as they walked towards the nearby village. It wasn't a far walk -- he could already see it.

"Wraith didn't take them all. Lucky."

Teyla was frowning a little as they started walking past some of them. "Some were taken and have been returned to this place. Perhaps we have finally found a connection."

"Have you found a leader?" Lorne asked her quietly.

"Yes," Teyla replied tilting her head a little. "I have."

She purposefully approached an older looking man smiling. "Greetings, I am Teyla Emmagen of Athos, this is Ronon Dex of Sateda and Major Lorne of Lantea. We have come seeking allies and information and we have heard that perhaps you might help us?"

There was a look on the man's face, and he seemed caught out, startled, and that made Lorne curious and still carefully smiling.

"Athos and Lantea," the man repeated.

"You've heard of us?" Lorne asked seizing on the pause. "Have you or any of your people heard of a Dr. McKay, Colonel Sheppard or Dr. Beckett?"

"Yes. Yes, uh... Malkes, come here, son. We were culled, but some of our young men were returned to us, through the ring of the Ancestors. They said that humans freed them."

He could see Teyla's smile widened and she glanced at him with a genuine hint of excitement. She had obviously 'read' something in the one called Malkes. "These humans who freed you," Lorne asked. "What were they like? Did they say anything?"

"They were dressed... strangely?" Malkes offered. "They both had short hair. One was... like you in bearing. Nothing could hit him. The other could make things fly."

That was them! After all this time.

"When was this? Where was this?" Lorne asked urgently. No sign of Dr. Beckett in the description.

"It was seven days," Malkes replied. "They.. they told us to try and pass a message to the Athosians if we met them, that they were still alive and trying to get home. The one like you…" he nodded to Lorne. "He told us to tell you the symbols of the Ancestors to this place even though it was not where they were."

Beautiful news. it was beautiful news, and Lorne nodded slightly. "Do you mind telling us what the symbols were?"

"For those who saved us, I will do this," Malkes said, nodding. "I do not know if it will help these Ancestors who helped us."

"We're trying to find them. They're being held by force against their will." But they were still trying to help people, and that made Lorne smile. "I'm glad you got out."

"Wait, Malkes, did you see any other people there?" Teyla asked frowning a little. "Perhaps waiting for these two?"

"At the gate," Malkes offered. "They let us pass through the ring."

"What did they look like?" Teyla queried and almost immediately Lorne noticed her face freeze into a mask as if she had immediately recognized an image in someone's head.

That feeling of an impending vision was growing again. He tried to blink it away.

It hit him like a train, and Lorne tried to push out of it, slide away from it, anything. He was on a fucking mission. But he could see McKay and Sheppard and Beckett, squirming and bare skin and not in the fun way and there was a knife involved and Lorne wanted that vision to stop.

Blood and the thick smell of it, the sound of it. Screams of his CO, of Dr. Beckett who really, god, really never hurt anyone and McKay reduced to a soundless scream that was somehow worse than his normal chatter.

"Major Lorne?" Teyla was turning to him and he held out a hand to try and stop her.

"Don't ...look, Teyla," he said in a low voice, almost blinded by the images. He waved her off, taking a step backwards. "It's nothing useful."

"Are you all right, sir?" Malkes asked.

"I'm fine. We have been looking a long time," Lorne said. "I'll just sit down a moment."

Because the damn images were not going away. Strangely, it was Ronon that led him to sit down away from where Teyla was continuing the conversation.

"Seeing something?" he asked in a low voice.

"Torture." Lorne shrugged. It was hard to tell whether it had happened, would happen or was happening live and in the moment.

"Happens," Ronon said gruffly. "Get anything detailed?"

Too damn detailed, that was the problem. From some of the words he could hear Carson incoherently apologizing that it didn't work properly and he'd try again.

"Yeah." Lorne shook his head sharply, and it was finally starting to dissipate. "Hell. Nothing we can use."

"You fight them, don't you?" Ronon commented staring out over at Teyla. "Not like Teyla."

"It's miserable," Lorne murmured. "They come without warning, they take over my vision, and they're usually horrible."

"Try going with it some time," Ronon said. "You fight something, when it hits you, it hits hard. Let it happen and maybe you can steer it."

"Maybe. Next time." He didn't want to steer torture. Hopefully Teyla was getting better information. All he had was the impression of stone walls, enclosed spaces.

Ronon didn't push any harder, still prone to long periods of silence. They waited for Teyla to finish speaking with the Weros and return to them both.

"I have the address, and Kolya was involved. "Teyla said darkly. "Of the Genii, Ronon."

"Genii. Good for stabbing you in the back, that's all they're good for." That surprised Lorne to hear. "Sateda traded with them. Living like that drives a person mad."

"Sheppard killed a lot of Kolya's men," Teyla said. "The Lanteans made a tentative alliance with the new regime, but Kolya went renegade. If we can find who employed him...."

"Then we will find them," Lorne finished her sentence. "We'll head back, send a MALP through to that address, see if there is anything there and see if we can get some intel on the renegade Genii's new employers." It felt good to have some sort of lead.

It was something to head for. It was more information than they'd had when they started. "Okay. Let's go, unless you think we can solidify some kind of good relationship with these people."

"We will send others. They believe from meeting the Colonel and Dr. McKay that perhaps your people are the Ancestors reborn Major Lorne," Teyla said. "Perhaps it would be sensible to send Athosian intermediaries. Otherwise, when we rescue them, Dr. McKay will have a Shrine named after him."

"Of course. Halling, maybe?" Lorne suggested with a smile. The man had a sort of regal bearing and calmness about him that Lorne appreciated.

"Halling would be most suitable," Teyla agreed with a smile. "We should tell Dr. Weir what we have discovered. Perhaps she can determine if the Genii have kept track of Kolya."

"I would've," Ronon said as he stood, always alert.

"So they can see if he's trying to overthrow them," Lorne murmured. "She can do that. How do you feel about reconvening to send a MALP to the planet location and see what's out there?"

Teyla nodded. "We should do that immediately," she said. "And you should ask Dr. Keller for painkillers. You will have a headache after two visions in a row."

"Yeah. You'll probably want to stay out of this last one," Lorne suggested as he glanced over his shoulder at the village, while they started for the gate.

If that was happening now, and had been happening all along if... when they got them back Teyla would have more than enough exposure to last her a lifetime.

But he knew, even as they dialed home to Atlantis, she would accept that as the price of getting them back

* * *

  
Instead of being delighted at the success of John and Rodney's mission, their captors had focused on the failure of the first trial of his new gene therapy. It had produced some ATA effects but there had been no sigh of Human 3.0 effects and that had been enough to lead to the worst week of Carson's life.

Together, alone, it seemed like his world degenerated to pain for the last seven days. His own, and then Rodney and John at night and the screaming pain of healing. He was entering a dangerous phase now, too weak, too connected to them so the serious injuries formed psychosomatic reflection on himself as he tried to heal them.

He could feel the injuries, haunting him through his waking hours, broken bones, ripped skin, a poor mimicry he was sure of what Rodney and John felt in reaction to their own bizarre injuries, and their captors were leaning too heavily on the fact that they healed after such torture.

Men would lose their minds after less, he was sure. So he'd take it from them at nights until he was a silently screaming ball curled up on one of them. He didn't pass out so easily any more; too much practice.

But right now, he was lying there, practically lying over them both and his mind drifting deeper and deeper into them both, looking for the answer that had eluded them for so long.

They needed to get out of there; there was no question at all about that. They needed to escape, and Rodney had made John swallow a ball of metal that had escaped detection. After John had passed it, they'd hidden it in straw, for later. For the exact moment that they worked out how to overcome their captivity.

He drifted a little, his empathic sense honed and sharpened from constant use and he managed to reach the cellular level with him still consciously aware of that for the first time. The implant was like a massive edifice in his mind and...

There it was. There it fucking well was, the suppression mechanism. Pheromone based, organic based, a bastardization of neurotransmitters flooding the brain and he could finally turn the damn thing off without turning the brain off as well.

They probably thought he was sleeping again, murmuring to each other again, John trying to steady Rodney who was on the edge. He was nearly done though, very nearly done.

He needed to turn it off on both of them, and they could escape immediately. No resting until the morning, they could go then, and as edgy as Rodney was and as tired as John was, they were all good at functioning when they had to. If they could get home, it was worth the extra exhaustion.

It made his head hurt but he finally managed it and groaned as he opened his eyes. His own head was throbbing.

"Carson?" John murmured sounding weary himself.

"Mm." He felt disoriented, stretched thin, but he could feel Rodney moving a little. They needed to go, go now.

"Hey, I thought you were asleep."

Caron smiled, genuinely smiled. "I've been working, John," he said softly before dropping his bombshell. "Most of the night. I've done it."

"You've done it?" John startled a little and he felt the burst of hope in him. "You turned off what they implanted. Is that what you're saying?" John started to shake Rodney awake, even after all of that time he'd spent lulling Rodney to rest.

"I managed a conscious healing at a cellular level for the first time. That meant I could turn it off without turning off your brain," Carson explained and grinned. That had been the problem before, there had always been the chance he was pulling the plug on the whole brain not just the implant.

John moved a hand and then pressed it against the smooth floor and visibly tried to phase. His hand pressed through the floor. "Carson, you're amazing. You -- do you have Rodney's off?" He was already scrambling, digging through the straw in the corner of their cell. "We have to get out of here."

"Aye, lad," he replied, feeling the deathly tiredness push back with adrenalin. "I'm just sorry I hadn't managed it before."

"No, no, don't apologize, you did it, you did it and Rodney and I never would've been able to and we'll be back home in no time, hey, McKay."

Rodney shifted, rubbing at his eyes. He was miserably tense still. "What?"

"Carson's given us a little present," John said tossing the metal blob at him. "And we thought he was sleeping."

Carson grinned at that, feeling the psychosomatic injuries pull as he sat up.

He hadn't really had his wrist pulled open slowly, flayed, while Rodney had, but it felt as it he had, and it was gruesome to feel.

Rodney reached for that blob and caught it, held it in the air above his hand, and then sat up more fully. "We need to get you through that door, John. Now."

"They threaded it through with an organic compound. But, if you hit me, McKay, I can get through."

"Just be careful, you'll need all that strength when we get out," Carson cautioned.

"If we can get home, I can sleep for days and...." Rodney waved a hand, careless of burning himself out. He offered Carson a hand up as John stood. "Give me a second and I'll hit you. Just trying to get my head together."

Carson supposed if it came to it, he could provide them with energy direct. What little he had left.

"In your own time, Rodney.."

Rodney seemed to gather himself together, and Carson could feel him concentrating. "Now, go, now."

Then he got to watch John push himself silently through the door inch by inch and he hoped that Rodney's energy was enough even as there was a long wait. He could still feel John out there. The strange thing was he could still feel him even in phase, but whatever they had done made the exit difficult to John. They weren't gods after all, they could still be hurt, still make mistakes and still die if it came to it.

"I think he's through," Carson murmured.

"I'm going to keep pushing at him until he gets the door open, because the last thing I want is him stuck in something," Rodney pointed out. "And then we can go."

"Don't use up all your strength, you'll need it on the way out. I'm not likely to be of much use on the way out," Carson replied. "Although I'm pretty sure I can make sure your energy doesn't drop too low."

"How? Will you still be mobile?" Rodney started to move towards the door, waiting, hoping, Carson knew. He was hoping, too.

"I'm going to try," Carson said, standing and not wanting to slow them down at all. Adrenalin helped and he deliberately summoned up more to help him get going. "We are going to get out of here."

"And then we can fall apart. At home." Rodney stressed the word 'home', and the door swung inwards slowly, Rodney at the ready to take out a guard of it was one, but no. No, that didn't seem necessary. It was just John.

He looked pale and drawn but his eyes were bright and Carson could feel the blazing determination in John that they were going to get out safe. "Hey, I posted bail with the guards out front. You want to get out of here?"

"I think I could stand that." Carson commented walking forwards. "You know, does anyone know where our IDCs are? Otherwise well have to visit one of our Allies to get home."

"Gate jump a couple of times?" Rodney suggested, and he had to be pulling energy back from pushing John, because he had his pieces of metal up and ready in his hands.

"Easy enough to do. I'll take point. Rodney, keep Carson in shielding range. We're going to trip an alarm at some point, but let's see how far we get before that happens." He was definitely the liability now; that was for sure.

Rodney nodded sharply, and gestured for Carson to get closer to him, to stay close to him as they walked. "Right. I'd prefer to get out of here faster than neater."

"Agreed," Carson murmured as they set off down the dark corridors. He was pretty sure it wouldn't be easy. Kolya seemed like the type to put in precautions for abilities he knew something about and err on the side of caution. He wouldn't rely on an implant. Already he was finding it difficult to keep up with the phantom injury pains plaguing him as they slipped to an intersection and then John phased to drift around the corner in complete silence. One thud and then sudden gunfire and the game was really on.

"McKay!"

Rodney threw up his shield with more of a physical gesture than usual, and he could feel the exhaustion falling on Rodney. But whatever the bullets were they were metal and they slowed and arced gently, harmlessly down to the floor. "Move, move move... Sheppard, your left!"

John phased so the bullets went through him, but the resistance was heavier the further forward he went.

"John! Fall back," Carson called. He couldn't hold his breath forever and if he went solid in the middle of a hail of bullets... it didn't bear thinking about.

Rodney stepped up closer, struggling, Carson could tell, but at least his technique was less close at hand, less immediately dangerous. "Get out of our way!"

Carson watched two flung pieces of metal smash through the men's foreheads and tried desperately to block their death-pain before the metal came hurtling back to Rodney's grasp.

"Rodney?" Carson asked even as John darted back out ahead of them, using Rodney's shield as a safe zone.

"It's no different than John putting sticks through their heads," Rodney pointed out, feeling ragged at the edges as they kept going forwards. "Any idea where an exit is?"

"Keep moving," John growled and then practically ran up the wall to get behind some guards.

Carson was trying to mask himself from the empathic echoes of pain from the guards.

They weren't hesitating. Rodney, who'd always hesitated in attacking, wasn't hesitating now. He lashed out, again and again, and Carson knew that they were at least in a more populated area. Hopefully they could get to a door soon. A hatch, a ladder, anything.

John was doing the same, but Rodney was burning up the most energy.

"Move, move, move," Carson chanted under his breath. "Rodney, your energy levels...."

"I shouldn't be bound by energy levels," Rodney muttered, stopping and looking up. "We can take Kolya out later. Sheppard, how do you feel about the hard way out? I don't think we ever left the planet we took out the Wraith outpost on. I think when they gate hopped us, it was to double back. The soil feels the same. Ferric."

"You're kidding," John had acquired a gun and glanced at them.

"I was unconscious for a while before they started on the torture," Carson said.

"When you say the hard way out... what're you talking about?" John asked.

"Straight up," Rodney suggested. "As long as someone promises to drag me to the gate afterwards."

"Rodney, let me try and help you with that," Carson said, immediately thinking of the consequences if Rodney was drained mid-escape attempt. "I'm pretty sure I can..."

Extend his healing, so energy flowed directly into Rodney as he drained it.

"If you think you can, then let's do it before one of us gets shot with a ceramic bullet when they remember to use the damn things."

"Right. Take my hands." Rodney held them out, and tilted his head up, looking up to the 'roof'. "We're getting out of here."

The bullets were pinging at the shield all around them and he took Rodney's hand, overlapping his ability with Rodney's body and John took the other.

"Let's fly away Peter Pan," John smirked a little. "Or should I call you Tinkerbell?"

"Peter Pan'll do," Rodney remarked, and it seemed as if he shoved up with his power, heaving who knew how many hundreds, maybe thousands of pounds of Earth out of the way, enough room for he and Carson and John to move up into the ceiling.

Within moments he felt the energy drain from him into Rodney relentlessly, and he ended up with his eyes screwed up and pushing hard at Rodney just to get them out of there. He had reserves he was draining completely. He hoped to god no one got hurt after this because he was going to be tapped out.

John, on the other hand, was whooping like a loon as they levitated upwards.

They moved fast, and when they burst up through the ground and into air, Rodney was laughing hysterically, and the energy output dropped drastically, even as he kept moving. "Heading for the gate. We're not far."

He was dizzy and disorientated but he found himself merging with Rodney's reaching out and suddenly said. "Wait. Wait! Stop!"

That felt like Teyla and Lorne and someone else he didn't know. But either he'd gone nuts or.... "I can feel Teyla and Major Lorne!"

"Oh, thank god. Where?"Rodney stopped, slowly lowering all three of them, and Carson could feel a sense of relief.

"Ahead of us," he said and was a little surprise when his legs just failed to support his weight. "Crap."

John took hold of him immediately. "Easy, anyone else out there, Carson?"

"There's a third person with them. I don't know him," he said. "Others... heading towards us from below. "

"Good luck there," Rodney murmured, moving to Carson's other side. "Hey! Over here! Teyla!" It was against John's personal rules of stealth, but if Teyla sensed their minds they'd have backup immediately.

"Rodney!" He heard her voice and there she was, Lorne and some stranger flanking her, jogging over the rise towards them.

It was only then Carson really let himself believe that they might make it home.

"Colonel Sheppard!" Lorne was focused on his CO. "Injuries?"

"None, except we're a good three minutes from passing out due to no blood sugar and we're being pursued." John didn't let go of Carson, and he appreciated that. "We've had our own doctor with us, and he's been a lifesaver, and I'd really prefer to debrief in a safer location."

"We'll get you home, sir," Lorne said and Carson had to wonder how they knew to be on this world at this time. Was it coincidence?

"No, it was not, Dr. Beckett," Teyla answered his thoughts as she moved to guard their backs. "Major Lorne's visions left us clues that led us here and the freed Weros-folk passed us Rodney and John's message."

"I'm surprised Kolya didn't kill them," John replied glancing at the stranger. "Colonel John Sheppard," he said simply and got the reply, "Specialist Ronon Dex," as a brief response even as the firing began.

"Let's get to the goddamn gate!" John shouted.

"Jesus, fucking..." Rodney twisted, half stumbling because he was looking backwards over his shoulder while trying to help Carson and John forwards. He was shielding again.

There was an unfamiliar whir and whump noise as Ronon fired and fired again with fierce precision, and Carson could feel Rodney pulling more out of him even as John phased and ran to the DHD, re-phasing the surface of his hands to dial the gate.

Teyla was firing back, Lorne as well and his eyes widened at what looked like a whole damn army chasing after them coming up the hill at a sprint.

"Go go go!" Breaking through the roof of the building had been a wise decision, because they couldn't have taken them on one by one the way they'd first tried.

Lorne was pressing the IDC and radioing Atlantis. "Atlantis, we've found them and we're coming in hot!" and they were running at the gate, stumbling, being dragged and the bullets were flying at them, because Rodney could not go through the gate with his powers full on because there were plenty of occurrences where that sort of energy warped the wormhole or made it jump.

Even as they went through Carson felt it, three hits in the body and he went down, unable to stop himself.

None of the ceramic bullets had hit him, but they might as well have done. He was too close to the edge to pull back it this time. He looked down and saw the blood bloom on his chest and stomach as his overlapping energy field reacted and tried to heal Rodney and John and was too weak to do so.

His longed after view of Atlantis once more vanished as he finally collapsed on the floor of the gateroom, taxed beyond the limits of his strength.

* * *

He woke up to a new agony when he'd really, really thought he was past that.

Hoped, maybe, and Rodney was afraid for one swimming moment that he was back in the cell, that they'd been seized again, but the lights in the room were too soft and he was in a bed.

A bed, with sheets that felt good and the air felt familiar and there was a feeling that he recognized as Ancient technology around him. Atlantis, they were finally back on Atlantis. It was almost unbelievable but he could hear people talking and moving around him and there was the sound of a faint snore next to him that he was now very familiar with. Sheppard, half dozing with a book on his chest and his arm wrapped in bandages.

There was a needle in his arm, and he carefully didn't move it while he turned around a little, looking for Carson's bed. He wondered what was in the IV -- saline, sure, but glucose, maybe? He felt better, and he didn't remember eating anything, despite the pain problem.

He was further over, almost isolated from the rest of the Infirmary and hooked up to more monitors and equipment than could possibly be necessary. Maybe it was the white sheets but all of a sudden he became aware how drawn and gaunt they had become.

Sheppard had stopped snoring and a glance back at him revealed he had opened his eyes. "Hey, Rodney."

"Hey." Rodney squinted, and reached to pat at his chest. "We're home. 's Carson been awake? I'm thirsty."

"Carson's still out," John grimaced. "Careful, you got shot there. I only had a through and through on my arm."

There was something wrong with that picture. They were hurt and Carson was not awake and they were not healed. He'd always healed them before anything else.

Rodney knew that getting within reach of Carson meant that he'd start to heal them, and he needed to heal for himself, first. "Is he okay?" He almost asked if he was okay himself, except that if he was awake, sure. He was fine.

"You know he kept not mentioning what happens if he pushes too far? Turns out he gets...like those stigmata version of the injuries. You and I got shot, but he couldn't stop himself so he made sure you didn't die and then it looked like his body thought it was shot as well, complete with bullet holes. They dragged him away from us."

"Is he all right?" Rodney waved a hand slightly, shifting painfully to try to sit up. "I hope I never see a ceramic bullet again."

"Dr. Keller was worried, but yeah he's going to be okay," John reassured him. "Watch yourself, Rodney. He just... over extended himself. Dr. Keller said she hadn't even had notes that he'd ever pushed this far before."

"He was regularly healing us." Rodney could still remember most of the injuries, which made it strange that while he'd had a testicle wholly cut off, there wasn't an injury to point to. Like it was healed and done with and everything, the torture and the rape wasn't... connectable. It made the bullets feel surreal.

"Yeah. I think we all pushed our limits this time." John glanced up as someone approached them.

"John, Rodney." Teyla was smiling. "I am so please to have you back."

"How long were we gone?" He hadn't really counted days, hadn't counted events or done much more than let John and Carson try to put him back together while he focused on surviving.

"A little over a month," Teyla said joining them both. "We have been very worried about you all. Elizabeth allowed Major Lorne and myself to hunt for you on different worlds. I used my ability to see if there were people with thoughts of you."

"So, the people we freed from the compound...?" Oh, thank god. That had been the best thing they'd done by way of getting themselves out that Rodney could think of. "I didn't even realize that we were still on that planet until we got out of the cell and Carson had turned off the control units they put in our heads."

"Dr. Keller has removed the implants," Teyla said. "It explained a great deal about how they were able to restrain you all."

"Otherwise we would've been out of there," John contributed. "They wanted the ATA and Human 3.0 gene therapy but they also wanted a black ops team."

"Hey, look, I'm half of a black ops team," Rodney mock-crowed, pushing a little misplaced arrogance forward because he could and it was better than trying to sort through the mess in his head.

Teyla was looking at him, tilting her head to one side as she reached forward to take his hand. "They hurt you terribly, Rodney, John. I can read that in your minds very close to the surface at all times. "

"Damn. I should've known feigning something else wouldn't have worked." Psychics. It wasn't that he minded Teyla's prying, but yes, yes, maybe he did mind it just then.

"I have not looked deeply, but Major Lorne has been having visions of you as we searched," Teyla said. "He would not allow me to read some of them but I can guess that it was bad."

John looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Teyla..."

"No John, I won't push, but I cannot help it if your mind half shouts it out."

"We're fine." Rodney moved to cross his arms over his chest, and stopped short. "Except for the part where they shot us on the way through the gate."

"Of course, except for that," Teyla said wryly.

"Hey Teyla, can you tell how Carson is?" John asked suddenly. "Just let us know if he is okay?"

"I believe that he is dreaming at the moment, so he will wake soon no doubt," Teyla replied.

"That's good." Or at least, it was good that Carson would wake up, even if he wasn't having the most pleasant of dreams. "I see the city didn't go to hell in my absence."

"You were all much missed," Teyla replied seriously. "Dr. Weir has been very concerned as well. And if not for looking for you, we would not have found Ronon."

"The guy with the cool gun?" John asked. "I'd like to meet him too."

"Where was he from?" Rodney shifted, trying to get himself re-involved in the creature that was Atlantis. They were home. They were home and they'd survived and they'd made it.

"From a planet called Sateda," Teyla said. "It was culled and razed to the ground for its opposition. The Wraith do not welcome too much resistance. He was taken as a Runner... implanted with a tracker and set loose for the sport of Wraith."

"Like a rabbit?" Rodney squinted at Teyla. Well, it made sense that something passed for sport in Pegasus, but it was pretty fucked up, even for the Wraith.

"Scariest looking rabbit I've ever seen," John replied with a smirk.

"He is a very proficient warrior," Teyla acknowledged "Though unsure of his place. I believe many Wraith discovered he was not easy prey in the seven years he was on the run."

Well, if he was a good warrior hopefully he'd stick around. Even if he wasn't a good warrior -- the more allies they had, in general, the better. "Huh."

"We'll win him over with pudding cups," John said and looked at Rodney. "You've missed at least one meal."

"So did you." So did Carson. Unless John meant in the more immediate sense, like he'd missed lunch, just twenty minutes ago, and not the more generally sense that they'd been living in hell.

"Yeah, but the nurses brought me pudding cups."

Teyla paused and glanced at Carson. "He is waking up."

There was a faint warm tingling starting over the pain in his chest.

"Okay, uh, this probably isn't good," Rodney decided, reaching a hand to his own chest. "He's healing me -- He doesn't, he can't have the energy for that, can he?"

"I thought Dr. Beckett was unable to heal people unless he was touching him," Teyla asked.

"Yeah well, we all learned a few new things under pressure," John said. "With a few people Carson doesn't have to be in contact. Get Dr. Keller, Teyla. He needs to be checked out."

Rodney caught himself waving a hand over the area as if that could cut the contact, because he was fine with having bullet holes in him, just fine, as long as Carson got better than still passed out in his bed.

"That's not going to help, Rodney."

Dr. Keller came bustling in, checking Carson and then came over. "Dr. McKay, you say Carson is healing you?"

"Yes!" The tingle was still there, slow and faint, but it had to be taking effort from Carson. "Yes, he is. Give him, give him something. Pain medications or something."

"His vitals are stable, " Keller replied. "I'm not sure that he might not expend the same energy fighting medication."

"Look, doc. It's got to be taking it out of him," John replied. "He can't keep doing this."

"No, I'm saying give him pain medication because it actually physically hurts to do what he does," Rodney snapped at Keller, which he didn't really feel bad about. Snapping at her.

"Oh. Oh right... I..." She looked a bit shocked at that, and Rodney considered Carson had been a lot better at hiding things than he would've believed. "I'll do that then."

"Great. He doesn't need anymore pain."

"What?" Rodney cut a glance over at John.

"He was...delirious for a bit," John muttered under his breath. "They couldn't stop it, not with sedatives. That's when I woke up part healed."

Rodney exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment before he glanced over at Carson's bed. "Is it just us? Because I'm not going to let them keep him down here as an all-healing vegetable for the infirmary."

"Just us," John replied. "He did say he thought it was an emotional connection." He shrugged a little.

"John explained about that," Teyla said.

"Oh." Rodney wasn't sure what to say or think about that, but he kept looking towards Carson's bed. "Should we be moved, or? I don't want him to... not get better."

"I'm not sure distance is making much of difference short of us going through the gate," John replied.

"And Kolya and the planet of the crazies are probably still looking for us." They were going to have to do something about them. Rodney wasn't sure what.

"We'll deal with them, I promise." Some of that manic sharpness was still in John's eyes. "How's he doing, Teyla?"

"The drugs appear to be making him have pleasant dreams." Teyla blushed. "He cares for you both very much."

It left Rodney clearing his throat. "Right, well, we aren't going to go out there and handle them -- they know our weaknesses." Unless they went out there in body armor and gas masks. That was always an option, but there were a lot more people on the base than there had been.

"You are not going anywhere for the near future," Teyla said. "Dr. Zelenka wants very much to wrap you in cotton wool?"

John snorted a little. "I'd like to see him try."

"He wishes to visit you, but most people have been forbidden from visiting until you were stabilized."

"Do we count as stabilized now?" Stabilized and not liable to freak out, calmer than he felt like maybe he should've been.

"We will have to ask Dr. Keller, but I would believe so," Teyla replied glancing at Dr. Keller who was finishing up with Carson.

"Sorry?" she asked, turning her attention their way.

"Rodney wants to know if we can have visitors?" John drawled.

"Oh yes, of course," she replied. "By all means."

"Fantastic." Rodney laid his head back down, and tried to focus on the fact that the healing had stopped, so Carson was good and out again. That was all right. The more time he had to recover, the better.

"Hey Teyla, you mind letting people know?" John asked. "Rodney will get bored in about two minutes and it would be good to have people to entertain him." He smirked a little at Rodney.

It was good to see. He was still too wound-up, but Rodney had no idea what he personally looked like to them. He felt pretty calm, pretty, okay, maybe detached, but it wasn't that bad. He was home. He was really home again.

"Not at all," Teyla smiled.

"I bet I have mail to catch up on," Rodney mused.

"Hey, visitors are one thing, work is another," John replied.

"Oh, c'mon. What'm I supposed to do?" Rodney shifted, trying to half sit-up.

"Annoy the hell out of the Infirmary staff?" John suggested. "See how many medical instruments you can steal before they chuck us out?"

"I've gotten yelled at for snagging sterilized equipment," Rodney reminded. "And you'll bitch if I take your IV needle out."

"I only bitched when you did that and then threatened to poke me with it if I didn't shut up," John reminded him and this was somehow familiar and... right. The two of them bantering, snarking at each other and none of the fear of impending pain ahead of them.

"Heh." Rodney smiled, and pulled at John's needle, careful to tip the point up once it was out so there wasn't a fluid spill.

"McKay..." John growled but he was smiling back at him. "Gimme that back."

Oh he'd give it back all right, around the time they got more visitors to keep them occupied, because they were safe now even if being here didn't feel real and Carson hadn't woken up just yet. In the meantime, it was easier to argue about small things rather than face the memories that lay in wait for them.

* * *

It was a miracle that he'd been allowed out of the infirmary before Rodney and Carson, but he was. He'd made a passing agreement to spend time with Heightmeyer, but there was a general mission to run and he felt disconnected and useless.

They were out and it was over, except it didn't feel over because maybe he'd left part of his mind back there. That was what was causing the disconnect over the fact that he was in his office again.

In a strange way he almost resented the fact that Carson had healed him because his mind could remember the injuries but not see them as real. And that was just damn ungrateful, because without that they would've died.

None of it changed the fact that he was half waiting all the time for that day's torture or 'training' to take place. Or missing sleeping in a huddled pile with Rodney and Carson, too cold to care about boundaries.

He'd liked that, in a way. The physical comfort to counteract what was going on, and now it wasn't going on anymore. Rodney was still in the infirmary, and Carson would probably be there for at least another day or two. Both of them would, so he was stuck out on his own. There wasn't enough privacy to talk about anything, and Telya seemed to know everything that happened, which put it all out there without actually putting it out there.

"Sir?"

He glanced up, unsettled that Lorne could get to the door without him knowing. "Hey, Major," he drawled. "You know, you could rescue me again, but this time from paperwork."

"Nooo, sir, why would I do that when I saved it all for you?" Lorne smiled, stepping closer towards the desk. "It's good to see you out and about."

"Slipped through a wall and no one was any the wiser," John replied. "Take a seat, Major. I need to know the stuff that hasn't got written up in reports. By the way, for god's sake, stop Lieutenant Dobson from writing any more about the incident on P5M-569. I think he's heading into obsession."

"I'm not sure if he's nursing a trauma there, or if he's fascinated. I'll talk to him about it." That was what Lorne did for him -- tackled the younger ones who just needed to be gently slapped upside the head. John took the more serious head smackings in hand himself, but for things like that, the guy was less likely to be eternally mortified if it came from Lorne.

"So what did I miss? In the last five weeks or so?" John asked working on his relaxed slacker pose. Lorne was looking at him with too much knowledge in his eyes and he was really trying not to think about what Lorne might've seen.

Lorne had random visions. Lorne knew, probably, as much as Teyla did. "Sir, you really only missed us picking up Ronon, that Satedan Warrior Teyla and I were out there with. He's a good guy, and Elizabeth is interested in allowing him to stay on."

"How good is he?" John asked. "Does he look to you for command or is that something I might have to handle?" It might actually be good to try and help someone else find a place now he felt so disconnected. He fiddled with his pen uselessly, trying to avoid looking directly at Lorne for a moment.

"I think he's looking for structure. He was a Specialist in their military, though I think that the Satedans meant it more as a higher rank than we do. Ronon's... crack, black ops material. Without a home, without a planet. We kill Wraith, he wants Wraith dead. It's more complicated than that, but I think he'd like to meet you once you're feeling up to it." Implying that he wasn't yet.

John raised an eyebrow. "I am in my office, theoretically doing work," he pointed out. "You trying to say something, Major?" He didn't put anything more than a genuine question into the tone. He wasn't going to get overly defensive about this.

"I'm saying you've been through some bad shit. And maybe you should take some personal time for yourself so this doesn't rear its head in a few weeks in the middle of a crisis."

"I'm fine, Major," John answered, trying for convincing to himself as much as his second in command. "Not a mark on me."

"You were with a Human 3.0 who does nothing but heal. Pardon me, sir, but that'd be like claiming you run a car part manufacturing plant if you put McKay and a bunch of scrap metal into a room."

"Okay, no lasting damage," John declared, even if his arm was a bit sore and not completely healed. "I've been through bad experiences before, this one isn't going to get me." Yeah, he talked a good game, but it was hollow sounding even to himself.

"It might. Look, I... I saw things, sir. Things that make me worry about you. I know you're physically fine. I just think you might want to, you know. Work out, enjoy the cafeteria food, catch up on DVDs in the lounge for a couple of weeks," Lorne suggested.

"And that'll drive me crazy," John replied. He nearly dropped the pen phasing through it. "What things did you see?"

"Sir, I saw you and Doctor Beckett and Doctor McKay being tortured. I saw them burning Doctor Beckett. I saw Kolya sticking a knife up McKay's backside. I watched him peel your kneecap off like it was a piece of garlic. I heard all of you screaming, and I can't just stand by and let you all pretend that life's normal. If you were Earthside, you would've all been stuck in a hospital and after you were physically healed you would have been in therapy for weeks before you went back to work, if ever."

John tried not to react but it was difficult because the memories were there, even if the scars weren't. He remembered that, he remembered the way that Carson would wad some clothes and put them into his own mouth because he would scream and scream with the pain of it, just like John had done. He remembered trying to hold Rodney and being eternally grateful that the pain was fading from his eyes as Carson touched him. "Lorne..." he began and stepped out of the command structure. "Evan, why do you think we need something to occupy us?"

"Because you're all good at taking care of your people and bad at taking care of yourselves, and I'd really like to have you three in the leadership for a long time, sir." Lorne shifted his posture, clearly uneasy with the discussion, and John couldn't blame him. He wished he weren't there for it, either.

"Look, once Carson and Rodney get out of the Infirmary, I'll take time," he said. "In the mean time I have some information I need someone in the military structure to know just in case. It regards our powers."

"All right..." Lorne still looked concerned, but waiting.

"The... circumstances of our capture showed that first of all there is a means to shut it down some. Inhibitors, and secondly, that all of us were pushed to exceed our known limits." John's voice tipped quiet. "Carson... Carson feels the pain of an injury he's healing and he can also sense the emotional state of people in a close vicinity to him. In a few rare cases, he can heal without touching, but apparently there has to be an emotional connection first. Secondly, Rodney, he can use and channel Carson's energy. He's more versatile with his power and can do a quick and dirty version of a scan of an environment and me... if Rodney hits me with an energy charge, I can phase organics. And I'm much more selective and focused about phasing around items rather than full phase."

"And this... developed as a result of what happened," Lorne repeated. "If there's honestly a way to control this, and Doctor Beckett wants to do anything with it, I'm willing to be a test dummy."

"Yeah, figured that, only as far as I know it involves an implant in your head," John answered. "We'll talk to Carson about it some time. Can't be easy having your ability."

"I know there are people who won't like the suggestion of it, but..." Lorne was smiling a little. "It's like someone changes the channel on my life for a few minutes. I'm learning to push them back, but. I'm glad it helped us find you."

"Me, too. We're going to have to deal with the Genii renegades at some point. Too much of a threat," John pointed out.

"Yes, sir. Would you mind if I handled that?" Lorne tilted his head a little.

John contemplated a moment turning the idea over in his head. He wanted to kill Kolya. He wanted to be there and make him hurt, pull bloody revenge out of his body and...

And that was a reason for him not to get too involved. Or Rodney. Or Carson. Rodney might go vengeful god and Carson might snap his mind if he tried to directly kill. He nodded. "Go ahead. I want to know progress, but they'll expect me to do it and will plan on that. I want it but...it would be dangerous to all of us if I did."

"I think so, sir. And while I know Doctor McKay is always handy in a firefight, ceramic bullets make it a risk," Lorne pointed out gently.

"We were damn lucky the first batch of guards didn't have them," John replied. "Any strength can be exploited if it's relied on too much." He leaned back. "No crazy risks, I'm not having them get anyone else from Atlantis."

"Yeah. We'll be careful, with full body armor," Lorne promised. "I'm glad you got out, sir."

"So am I. Team effort. Mainly Rodney and Carson. I was along for the ride."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Sheppard. I don't think Rodney or Carson would've lasted that long without you there. Or gotten through that mission."

"You don't give them enough credit," John answered and sat back. "Tougher than you think. McKay, well, you saw..."

He had to have seen that Rodney had been hurt and made it through. The hardest thing for Rodney had been the fact they hadn't wanted him for his mind. They wanted him for his power, they wanted him for his ability to power through things, to attack and defend and destroy, and in a lot of ways John thought it might've been easier if they'd wanted Rodney to build bombs.

Lorne laughed quietly. "Yeah, well. He's got the potential to be a really dangerous sort of guy, but he's not. He's Doctor McKay. His scientists have missed the hell out of him, and when he gets discharged, I don't think they'll let him out of the lab for weeks if he heads that way."

"He'll be surprised," John answered and smiled a little. "The Marines been giving you trouble while I was away?"

He hoped not. He'd have to get snarky, and he didn't have the energy.

"None. We're still ironing out the kinks between the military who came through the gate on the original mission and the newcomers, and that's a fun thing to do when I'm one of the newcomers myself. Some of them think that your, uh, original surviving military members have nativized, your core group think that the newcomers are inflexible... Usual shit."

"Do we have any 3.0s of use in the new batch?" John asked raising his eyebrows.

"No, we haven't transferred in any more staff while you were gone, so, I'm still your worst problem in the newcomers when it comes to power. Handley has realized he can store and control static electricity. He didn't think it was a 'power', just a dry air issue, so I had a talk to him about living on an ocean and the fact that it's humid outside."

"Is it a problem?" John asked. He needed to know that as well. "And what does it do, Major?"

"Static electricity. You know, like when you scuff your feet over the carpet and then tap someone? He can make tiny sparks if he gets enough friction going. He's been banned from doing that in a laundry list of locations, as writ by Doctor Zelenka."

"I meant you… your abilities. Do you see only present things?"

"Oh." Lorne shrugged his shoulders. "I, I'm not sure. If it's not present, then it was the recent past or the recent future."

"Tell me what you saw about us and when, and I'll tell you how close you were," John suggested. Future visions could be useful, could be a warning system.

"A few hours before we got to the planet and met up with you all, I saw the three of you being tortured." He shrugged his shoulders. "It was mostly nondescript things. I saw you releasing the people held in that Wraith base."

"So that was a past event," John replied. "Because Carson had been healing us most of the night. And the Wraith planet, that was a good seven days before we escaped."

Lorne nodded, smiled tightly. "Yeah, so nothing precognitive yet."

"Still, useful. Got you to where we were," John replied. "Y'know, when mine came online, it was pretty out of control for a while. Then I got a handle on it."

"I'm hoping that eventually I can control it. Right now it's... pretty intrusive." And useless, yeah, John remembered that thought himself. "I think you should get some rest, sir, but I won't...."

"Listen." John had a good relationship with his second in command and wanted to keep it that way. "I'll work on it. I promise I'll listen if you think I'm losing it, but sometimes I've got just to... do what has to be done."

"I know, sir, but there really isn't much to do right now," Lorne pointed out. "So, rest while there's opportunity."

"I'll be spending time with McKay and Carson." It was a sort of code they had. He was pretty sure Lorne was aware of his bisexuality just as he was aware that Lorne had a few things in his file that weren't completely straight.

"That sounds like a good choice, sir," he smiled. "I think that's about it, sir. Correct me if I'm wrong."

"Nah. Mind you, if you've got anyone who owes you a favor in the kitchen I'd like to take McKay and Carson a treat. Food was...we talked about it a lot."

"What's the specific treat?"

"Anything chocolate," John suggested. "Or that caramel shortbread cake they do sometimes."

"Yeah, that can be arranged," Lorne promised. "A welcome home cake is the least the three of you have coming."

He hadn't been thinking about himself there specifically, but he nodded. "Thanks. I'll stop disrupting your day now. Where does Ronon hang out?"

Maybe he'd go start that process.

"Gym. Probably beating up some of the soldiers." Lorne smiled while he said it, heading for the door. "I hope your day goes better, sir."

"I'm sure it will, Major," John replied nodding to him as he left. He contemplated a moment and decided he'd go see Ronon beat up a few soldiers and see if he could connect to the guy. He got the impression he could be a formidable ally given half the chance.

* * *

  
Carson still wasn't awake.

He was dreaming, Teyla had told him, as if that was an actual comfort to someone who knew just how little sleep Carson had gotten while they'd been imprisoned. Sleep could be pretty alluring and that worried Rodney. He didn't really want to be discharged until Carson was okay again, but that was Keller's call, and not his.

He, on the other hand was awake, bored and, due to Carson's frequent slips, nearly healed from his apparently life threatening injuries. The only reason he hadn't torn the infirmary apart to get out was because he wanted to be there when Carson woke up.

"So, I want you to take the pain killers if you need them," Dr. Keller said. "And I want to do quick checks on you tomorrow morning and for the rest of the week, see how you are getting on okay?"

"Sure, right. I'm not really sure what there is to check, but..." Rodney glanced at the bottle of painkillers. Maybe she really didn't understand that he was generally physically just fine.

"We're feeling a little overprotective, Dr. McKay," Keller smiled at him. "Elizabeth would roast me alive if I missed anything with any one of you. Don't worry about Dr. Beckett, we'll let you and Colonel Sheppard know the moment he awakes."

Missed anything, yeah. "So, uh, that's it? That's... I can just leave?" She'd chewed John out about seeing Heightmeyer, but if he could escape that, Rodney would. It just felt too easy after everything they'd been through.

"You have to follow your recovery plan which..." Keller sighed. "Did you read it or did Colonel Sheppard make it into paper airplanes again?"

"I don't remember seeing it?" Rodney rolled his shoulders slightly. "I'm not sure what there is to recover from..."

"It details when your appointments are to see me for routine scans, suggested diet, your schedule to see Dr. Heightmeyer, and your reintegration to work in staged intervals." Keller looked at him. "You're going to ignore all of it, aren't you?"

"As much as I can reasonably get away with. Sure, fine, scans, maybe going back to work on this plan maybe, but my diet?"

"It's important for you to gradually build up your resources," Keller replied. "You lost a lot of body mass when you were captured. But you don't want to go overboard with it otherwise it'll end up bouncing the other way."

"She saying you'll get fat, McKay." It was possible John had walked through a wall to get there.

"Is he on a diet?" Rodney half demanded, pointing at John because at least now he had someone to point at.

"A diet of extra protein and second helpings of bacon and eggs for breakfast," John smirked at him.

"Because he was always running under the optimum at the best of times," Keller replied. "He metabolizes more than you do. Physical training."

"I'll have you know that I metabolize a lot of energy," Rodney caught himself snapping, and stole her pen from her hand with a gesture. "Give me your inane recovery plan, and I'll think about following it."

"I'll just go fetch another copy," Keller replied. "No making this one into anything else."

John leaned close to him. "Carson still asleep?" he asked quietly. "They say anything about when he might wake?"

"No. Apparently he's sleeping, which is different from a coma in ways I'm not familiar with, seeing as it looks the same to me when it's for days straight."

"Goddamn it," John said, under his breath. "I don't get why we can't be near him. I mean, we're not keeping him under are we?"

"Apparently Keller thinks we're leeching him somehow." Rodney tilted his head, made sure she was still in 'her' office, and she'd slipped into Carson's shoes suspiciously comfortably. "If this goes on much longer, I'll stage a kidnapping."

"I'll give it a day and if there is no improvement in that time, I will kidnap him back to our... my quarters. It's not right, him not being there."

"She's not worried at all." And that was what worried Rodney because they were professional rivals, the two of them, Keller and Carson, and it just made sense to Rodney. "So. Extra bacon?"

"Yeah. You want me to spilt it with you?" John suggested. "There's a limit to what I can eat but... you know, extra bacon..."

They had gotten used to sharing food out between them. Rodney needed the bulk of the carbs, and John and Carson had spilt protein between them. Carson said he generally needed high protein after regenerating something to help try and rebuild things.

"That's okay. I'll steal your bread," Rodney shrugged. "So, are you going to see Heightmeyer?"

"At the risk of sounding like a brat, I don't want to," John said. "But everyone is standing around waiting for the crack-up to happen, so I guess I have to."

"What do you mean, 'everyone'?" Rodney pressed, leaning in a little.

"So far I've had talks from Elizabeth, Lorne, Teyla, even the new guy Ronon eyed me funny, though he doesn't talk much," John said. "Keller, Radek...There's probably more."

"Oh, nice. That's..." Yeah, that was everyone because except for Teyla, none of them were really tight lipped. Rodney wasn't looking forward to that.

"All filled with a certainty I'm going to go to pieces." John waved a transparent hand at him. "Maybe literally. I told them I was fine."

"Of course you did. Did anyone look like they were going to believe you?" It would be better, he supposed than being told that they were being recalled to Earth.

"Nope," John replied, contriving to look unworried about that. "I half feel we should just go do something outrageous in the mess hall so people can relax about it."

"Outrageous how?" Keller was looking up at them, and then looked down to her sheet of paper again, still in her office.

"I was half thinking of kissing you in there," John mused in a low voice. "So maybe I am a little bit cracked."

"Yeah, the military code still applies here," Rodney murmured, sitting up straighter when Keller came back towards them. "I promise that this one won't become an airplane."

"Make sure you don't," Keller handed it over. "And you have to be signed off visiting Kate, otherwise you don't get cleared for full duty."

She was nowhere near as good at being a hard-ass about it as Carson. Carson put the fear of whining into a man. Rodney looked back over his shoulder at Carson. "Fine, yes. Will do. Can Sheppard or I get paged when he wakes up?"

"We will tell you immediately. There's no medical reason except exhaustion why he hasn't woken, so I'm sure it won't be long," Keller replied.

"Thanks, Doc," John said. "C'mon, Rodney."

"Or judicious over-sedation," Rodney muttered, getting to his feet. "Where are we heading?"

"Where do you want to go?" John asked as they headed out. "Anywhere on Atlantis or a puddlejumper."

"I'm not sure. Just... lead the way." He shrugged, tagging over John. "It's just good to be home."

"Hungry?" John asked. "We can get food if you want."

"I..." Rodney hesitated and then nodded. "Yeah, food sounds good right now."

"Right." This was the Sheppard way of dealing with things. Eat stuff, fight things and run. Not his normal way of doing things.

Rodney preferred to solve things, to, well, he didn't know how he 'dealt' with things because there usually wasn't anything to deal with or no time to deal before there was another crisis on their heels.

They headed to the mess, getting smiles and greetings as they went through the corridors and they even got preferential treatment with regards to food. It was rather nice to be welcome and the diet was the first thing he was going to ignore.

"So, you know. We need to figure what we're doing after Carson wakes up," John said casually as they sat down with their food acquisitions.

"What do you mean? Is there plans for a vacation on that sheet that I'm unaware of?"

"I mean with... the three of us." John just put that out there between mouthfuls and really, DADT didn't seem to be entering John's head at all. Assuming he was talking about that. Maybe he was more affected than he let on.

"We're in a..." Rodney waved his spoon around, deciding to enjoy his cup of apple sauce first. "Large open space and I haven't given it much thought. But mostly, Sheppard, we're in a large open space."

"With no one in earshot," John said. "We've gotta talk about this sometime, Rodney."

"Allow me my paranoia. Here, how about we go to your quarters or my quarters to watch a movie for a while. There, that solves that, mmm?" He stuck his spoon in the applesauce again, scraping the bottom of what was a ridiculously small cup.

"Fine," John answered and glanced up a moment. "Hey, Radek."

"Colonel Sheppard, I went to the Infirmary and they said Rodney had been released. So… I deduced this would be next place to look."

"I came here for the..." Rodney glanced at his plate. "Weirdly, I think I missed butter and fruit the most. Is that a sign of malnutrition? When I actually want to eat fruit?"

"It is a sign of end of the world," Zelenka said. "We must scan you, see if you were replaced by fruit liking double."

John snorted. "Fresh stuff was a little scarce."

"Occasionally you get tired of bread. It's good to see you -- what did I miss, hmn? Blown many labs up in my absence?" He set that cup aside, and moved on to the sandwich.

"Mildly singed two." Zelenka sat for a moment. "There was an incident with the accelerator and dissecting a drone. We have new whiteboards which are..." He gestured enormous size.

"So much better than what we were given from the start," Rodney guessed. "Any other equipment, technology, come through?"

"Ronon's gun is very interesting," Zelenka said, leaning forward.

"Hell yeah," John added.

"Interesting how?" He glanced between them. "Does it shoot rainbows? I wasn't really paying attention when we first met him, I was a little wrapped up in being shot at."

"Interesting power source, enough power to shoot a Wraith and kill, or put onto stun, or melt a way though sheet metal." Zelenka said. "All from a power source smaller than few inches."

"And it's very cool," John said.

"Have you gotten a look at the power source? Does he recharge it? How...?" It was distracting, and for all Rodney knew John had set this whole meeting in the mess room up, but Rodney wanted distraction.

"He is unwilling to let us take it apart," Radek said and shrugged. "Difficult man to tell what to do."

"He doesn't want you scientists breaking it," John surmised.

Rodney snorted. "Oh, come on. We just want to look at it. Radek doesn't even have to take it apart, he just has to touch it."

"A man's bond with his weapon is a sacred thing, Rodney," John said with a quirk of an eyebrow and Zelenka snorted under his breath.

"Says the man who uses sticks," Rodney pointed out.

"Sticks work," John protested.

"As kindling, yes, Colonel," Zelenka replied.

"And as a weapon. He'd phase it, stick it in their head, and walk away," Rodney offered.

Zelenka blinked a little. "Well, yes. Um. Most effective, Colonel Sheppard."

John shrugged. "Can't go wrong with a stick. You can usually find one and it doubles as kindling."

Rodney cleared his throat, and then added, "We ran a mission where he did it. So, uh..."

"Well. We shall retro-engineer sticks of doom. This will be the greatest challenge science team has faced, yes?" Radek said blandly. "Won't be able to make them work without Dr. McKay."

Rodney snorted. "Yes, yes, I wasted time making a weapon for him, and he used sticks."

"I used the knife!" John protested. "He was pretty good out there. I like the liquefied metal thing."

"It is of great interest how he does that with minimal exothermic reactions," Radek said. "If you would let me study it, Rodney…"

"What do you mean 'minimal exothermic reactions'?" Rodney scoffed. "I've had enough studying."

"Rodney, you can make liquid metal that doesn't burn. You know as well as I do that to replicate that sort of energy transformation was impressive," Radek said. "And Colonel Sheppard can do strange things as well. I would like to study that too."

"And I can speak for both of us when I say that we're had enough of being studied," Rodney snapped, and hell, his fork was dripping over his fingers for a moment before he wadded it up into a ball and tried to re-shape it into a fork. It was a damn shame that metal had no muscle memory and he wasn't good at anything decorative.

Radek looked comically dismayed. "Rodney, I meant only to distract you…"

"Find something else," John said. "We've been lab rats."

"So, I'm not particularly interested in being monitored while you tell me to try things," Rodney murmured, ending up with more of a plate than a fork. Why could he always manage knives and weapons so much easier?

"Then maybe we look at things? We have not been through many of the items received from worlds after the Hives," Zelenka suggested.

"I..." Rodney shrugged, and ended up pocketing the plate for the hell of it. "I think I'd just prefer to go back to my quarters for the night."

"Tomorrow, then?" Radek asked taking the hint and getting up. "If you are allowed."

"Right. Tomorrow." The idea of being in the labs and being watched was a new one, but it was one that set his skin crawling just considering it. "Sheppard?"

"You want to watch a movie, McKay? Celebrate getting out of the Infirmary."

"Mindlessly," Rodney agreed, starting to stand up, taking some of the biscuits he'd grabbed.

"See you around, Doc," John said to Zelenka "We'll be revisiting some of the classics if you need us."

"Back to the Future, as a series, isn't going to be allowed," he declared, picking up the cup of coffee that he'd gotten but hadn't tasted yet. Soft faux-southern style biscuits and coffee seemed just right just then.

"Aw, Rodney..." John whined, but didn't look too upset. "Fine, you choose."

"Fine, fine. What horrifying classic other than that do you want to see?" He could make the concession. Other than company, Rodney didn't care much what was one.

"Monty Python?" He was pretty sure that was a peace offering. He wasn't sure that John was a fan.

But he wasn't going to exactly say 'no', either, because it was light, familiar and funny. Rodney nodded. "Yeah."

"Holy Grail or Life of Brian?" John asked. "I promise not to say the Knight's are French Canadian and you can fake the Holy hand grenade if you want. You can use your fork-plate thing."

"Thou shalt counteth to three!" Rodney walked with him out of the mess hall, and towards the nearest transporter. "Holy Grail."

John gave that low chuckle of his and for a moment his smile seemed a little genuine. "Well then, lead on to Camelot, McKay."

"I need to work on my craftsmanship," Rodney murmured, offering John the unfortunate fork-plate while they stepped into the transporter.

* * *

  
If they had ever really read over Carson's record in detail, they might've noticed his notes to avoid certain types of painkiller. He wasn't allergic to them, but they did have a certain effect on him, making him a little unstable and overemotional.

This wasn't a good situation when he had effectively been in a coma for a few days and he started to come out of it in the middle of the night, with his abilities all out of control and reaching for the two people he believed should be there next to him.

They weren't.

They should have been there, and that was the problem -- that they weren't. They weren't there, weren't in easily reachable distance, and they should have been they'd been there the last time he'd reached out for them.

Dazed and confused, he forced himself awake and still couldn't touch them and he panicked. They weren't there which meant... meant they had to be dead or they hadn't made it back and the incoherent flail he made with his bedding and drips was nothing compared to the burst of energy that rippled across Atlantis as it reacted to a gene-holder's distress. He was frantically looking for them, and Atlantis was eager to help, finding a way to transmit that intent to all gene holders.

Carson didn't know any of that. He was too busy tangled in his bedding and trying to get up out of bed.

The desperation to get up didn't help him actually get up. The sheets had been tucked in and now they were wrapped around him, a miserable cling against his skin when he finally got his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Dr. Beckett?" Jennifer half ran out of the office area. "Dr. Beckett, you have to lie down now. You shouldn't be up."

He tried to say, 'I need to find Rodney and John,' but with his dry throat and mouth it came out as a cracked "Rodney! John!"

"They're okay, sir, they're okay..." He felt her push him back into the bed. "They're probably coming down the transporter right now if they heard what I heard."

"Why aren't they here?" It sounded plaintive and whiny, even to himself, but he had a fear of their absence that he couldn't explain.

"They're okay. I kicked them out of here a few hours ago," Keller told him, voice pitched towards soothing.

He must've looked scared. Looked terrified for her to pick up on that and there was a hint of paranoia there that she was lying. "I can't feel them, why can't I feel them?" Everything felt fuzzy and uncoordinated even as he tried sitting up again. "I'd be able to feel them if they were here. Alive."

"They're upstairs, way up in the living quarters section," Keller murmured. "I just heard you say, I heard something crying out for them, Carson. In my head."

"I don't think that was me." He reached for a glass and his hand was shaking a little but he needed the fluids. He took a gulp. "I don't... no, I remember shots and..." He felt on his chest, poking at residual soreness.

"And you saved McKay's life and absorbed half of the trauma yourself. It would've killed him if you hadn't. It almost killed you. You started to bleed where he'd been hit. I thought you two were the worst example of a through and through that I'd ever seen."

"Oh." Well that was embarrassing. "I... uh... well, yes, that has happened on occasion." Nearly killed him once, but perhaps it wasn't the best time to consider that.

Then it dawned on him that he was actually back in Atlantis and not locked away with people torturing his friends so he would work harder. Because he was talking to Keller, and even as they talked, she was going about her work, plugging things in that he'd unplugged in his panic. "Has it? You've been keeping some things from us, Carson. About the pain of healing."

Carson groaned. "I'm alright with painkillers... some painkillers," he protested. "And it's only under unusual circumstances that sort of reaction occurs."

"Circumstances like...?" Keller sounded like she was well and ready to grill him, but stilled when the infirmary doors opened.

"Carson?

"Hey, you're awake." Rodney sounded better, sounded almost well, and he came up to the bed, shooting a glance at Keller. "We thought for a minute that the city'd gone haywire."

"Voices in our heads and all," John agreed.

"I'm not sure what actually happened," Carson said and he could feel an upsurge of emotion that meant he just wanted to cling somehow. He clutched at Rodney who was closest.

"Hey, easy there, Carson." Rodney rubbed at the back of Carson's neck. "You probably need food."

"Oh... aye," Carson managed in a choked voice. It was Rodney and he felt a lot like his Rodney again. Not terrified, or in pain but fine.

Hale and alive, smiling at him. And so was John. "It's good to see you awake there, Doctor Beckett. Teyla said you were half-awake for a while there, sleeping, but this is a definite improvement."

Dr. Beckett? That sounded formal, but John didn't feel formal. He felt like he missed him, wanted to see him. "Aye, well, I'm conscious," he admitted. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

"Nah, we were just watching Monty Python's Meaning of Life." John sounded relieved to not be watching it anymore, which was funny, and Rodney was just smiling.

"Don't be sorry. Hey, Keller, any idea when we can spring him out of here?"

"Well, if he behaves and his vitals are stable, going on previous experience, tomorrow," Keller answered and Carson still didn't want to let go of Rodney, though his hand was reaching out to try and find John as well.

"Okay. You think Sheppard and I can visit with him for a while?" Rodney was giving her a dirty look that implied that she had better say yes.

"Well, as long as you don't wake the other patients.. uh... okay, Carson probably did that already," Keller said. "Thirty minutes, then you all get some rest."

"Sure, fine." Rodney grinned, and started to pull away to grab chairs, while John moved in closer.

"Hey, you look pretty good, doc. You feel all right?"

"Stiff, and a wee bit sore, but not too bad." Carson had another drink. "Mm. I couldn't sense you when I woke up. I think I panicked."

"You might've. The city picked up on your panic and kind of echoed it to, I think, all the gene-holders." John was smiling at he grabbed one of the chairs from Rodney. "Rodney couldn't sleep so we were watching this surreal--"

"Classic," Rodney cut in. "Classic."

"Every sperm is sacred?" Carson commented and grinned. "We're home? Really home?"

"Yeah." Rodney perched on the edge of the chair. "Mingling in the mess hall helped bring it all home to me. Not sure what assured Sheppard."

"Puddlejumper flight and paperwork," John put in leaning closer.

"Not at the same time. How long have I been asleep?" Carson asked.

"Two, three days. I just got out this afternoon." Rodney leaned forwards, still smiling. "I'm supposed to have my first appointment with Heightmeyer tomorrow. Of course, if you're getting out of here..."

"You shouldn't use me as an excuse," Carson replied. "There might be things you want to say about me."

"There are things we want to say to you," John murmured. "When you're out of here."

"That, too. Sheppard's mister personal talk all of a sudden." Except Rodney didn't seem too irritated when he said it, looking sideways at John.

"Just want to clarify things," John said mildly but he was looking at Carson and his emotions were oddly hopeful.

"We can do that," Carson said.

It was strange that John was openly hopeful and Rodney was relaxed and almost jittery. "Good, great." Rodney shifted, sat back in his chair, eyes scanning Carson. "Every time you woke up, you started trying to finish healing me."

"Well that was inconsiderate of me," he said wryly. His stomach rumbled. He really was hungry.

"It was, sort of -- you kept waking up, halfway, and then passing out," Rodney murmured, eyeing Carson's stomach. "You have any more power bars on you?"

John pulled one out. "Never go anywhere without them," he said brandishing one.

"I have no idea if this is on your dietary plan, but hell." Rodney took it from John, unwrapping it quickly for Carson.

He took a bite and ate it with relish. "I've not got internal injuries, so I'm fine to eat whatever." Regardless of what Jennifer wanted. "Dietary plan, huh?"

"John's is freakish. It might as well say 'Drive by McDonald's every morning, buy what you want, and then get yourself a milkshake for the hell of it'." And Rodney's, presumably, said nothing of the sort, from the look he gave John. "Mine looks like a vegan wet dream. In case you wonder why I call medicine a voodoo science."

Carson chuckled a little. "We'll have a look at that," he promised. "Tomorrow."

He wanted to tell them he loved them. It was a little overwhelming to be safe and here with them. "Tomorrow, right." Rodney shifted, cleared his throat. "So, uh. Now that we're all out and okay..."

"We decided you needed to catch up on the new movies they got while we were away..." John said smoothly. "We've got some catching up to do."

Carson frowned a little and then realized. "Oh... aye, yeah. We can do that."

"Seeing as Sheppard and I have a two week period of medical checkups, meetings with Heightmeyer and a slow transition back to work, we should enjoy the downtime while it exists. Until something goes horribly wrong and we're all expected to suddenly be up to tip top shape again," Rodney muttered wryly.

"Well obviously," Carson replied. "It will take time."

"Yeah," John exhaled. "We won't be ignoring this one."

"I'd like to try." Rodney rolled his shoulders, and finally leaned his elbows on the edge of Carson's bed.

"Not the best idea. But I'll be with you."

He just hoped that would be a measure of reassurance.

"We're not going to be allowed to travel through the gate until we're sure the direct threat to us in specific has been neutralized." There was a moment of quiet where Rodney just watched Carson's face, even though John spoke. "This is according to Elizabeth."

Carson sat up a little, worried. "You're not going to.…"

"Lorne's dealing with it," John said quietly. "I'm a liability out there."

"They'll know to use gas on him," Rodney shrugged. "We could go out there with gas masks and bullet proof vests and they've done enough research on us to make us probably easier to kill than they are. They know that organic material gives John problems -- hell, throw a meat net over him or something and we're suddenly in trouble. I've never felt so threatened by pottery before in my life. So..." Rodney waved a hand.

"So we're staying out of it." Carson was relieved, even if he could feel John's mixed emotions about that. "The two of you together, though, exceeded those limitations."

"Yeah. We did take out a Wraith base together, John." Rodney lifted his eyebrows at John.

"I was very worried about you both then," Carson confessed. "I was used to feeling you close even if it wasn't pleasant."

"Well, we worked out a few things," John said.

"And it got us out of there, so." Rodney shifted, restless in his chair, eyes on Carson still. "So, it wasn't a bad thing. We got to turn their training against them."

"Take the positive," Carson murmured. He was still tired strangely, even after all the sleep.

John patted his hand just a little. "You know Rodney, always looking for a silver lining."

Rodney snorted. "It's good to see you up and awake. Get Keller to page Sheppard when you get out, huh?"

"I will." Or he'd do it himself. "You two go on, finish the movie. I'm sorry to have disturbed you both."

John winced a little. "No problem at all, doc."

"Don't be sorry. I plan on hanging around here until Keller kicks us out or you sleep a non-coma sleep."

"Well that might be sooner than you think." Carson tried not to yawn. "Why don't tell me what I've missed? You must've got some news for me…"

John considered for a moment, obviously trying to work out what Carson might find interesting. "Well apparently Dr. Geraldson and Lieutenant Forbes are working on bridging the gap between the military and the scientists."

"And by military and scientists, John means the first group of us who were here and the second group," Rodney cut in. "Apparently we have nothing but fractures in group cohesion. Or something."

"Rumor has it there's some hands on cohesiveness going on," John alluded and Carson smiled as he settled back.

"Oh really?" Carson prompted.

"Why do I never hear about these things? What were you doing when you were out of the infirmary, hanging out by the proverbial water cooler?" Rodney gave John a questioning look. "I thought Doctor Geraldson was the one with the eye twitch?"

"There was an embarrassing personal problem," John said. "I can't help it if Keller thought I was asleep and Forbes was a bit hysterical."

"Oh, was it, the uh." Rodney gestured down at his own stomach. "The big embarrassing personal problem that takes eighteen years to get rid of and then it expects to be put through college?"

Carson grinned a little. John in a teasing mood was a little like having a few beers without the alcohol.

"As it happens, no," John replied and smiled.

"Colonel?" Keller appeared behind them, sounding disapproving.

"Hmn?" Rodney turned around. "We're just telling Doctor Beckett some bedtime stories, Doctor Keller."

"Well, you can wait until tomorrow because it seems I need to protect the infirmary's medical privacy from you two," Keller replied.

"Uh-huh. Oops?" John smiled at her.

"Oh, like that actually works when we have mind readers and empaths," Rodney scoffed. "Carson, get some rest. Real rest, and we'll be here to spring you tomorrow."

"I'll do that, Rodney," Carson murmured and waved back at John when he waved to him as Keller tried to shoo them out.

"If you need us, doc, use the comm this time," John replied with a smirk.

"Get some rest!" Then they were out the door again, and Keller stood there for a moment, watching the doorway.

He sighed a little and settled back, not wanting to feel her emotion, to hold onto Rodney and John as much as possible. He didn't need Jennifer and her confusing mix of ambition and inadequacies looming over him. He needed Rodney, complex and simple at the same time and John, mysterious and giving all at the same time.

"So, Doctor Beckett, how're you feeling?" Better, he supposed than the inside of her head, but he did need more than John's power bar for food. It left his mouth feeling gritty, protein and mock-chocolate lingering on his tongue.

"Hungry," he said truthfully. "Man cannot live on IV drips alone."

She laughed, and he felt a bubble of her anxiousness. "Well, the mess hall is closed, but I think I can get you something..." They had food stores in the infirmary for just that reason.

"That would be lovely, lass," he murmured and glanced over at her. "What's wrong, Jennifer?" He wouldn't be able to sleep with a sharp edge of anxiety plucking at him.

"Hmn? Oh, nothing." Nothing, there was a lie, even as she came back with an MRE like tray meal. They'd brought a lot of those from the _Daedalus_ , and it almost made Carson wish for some of that hard-tack the Athosians had helped them make.

"I know that's not strictly true," Carson replied looking at her even as he took the meal and pulled it open. Food would do him a lot of good.

Food would do wonders to take the shaky edge off of him. "Well, sir I'm just... I haven't had any idea how to treat you while you were unconscious."

"Sir?" Carson raised his eyebrows. "What you did seemed to do the trick," he replied. "It's not like I've had something happen on quite this scale before."

"But you're..." She gestured loosely, and it was comical in the way that Rodney's grand gestures were. "Healing people without touching them."

"Specific people." The food actually tasted fantastic, but then it would after barely anything for a month or more. "Specific people I had to heal daily from severe injuries, with whom I became very close in a traumatic situation. I didn't do that with anyone else, did I?"

"No. But it was disconcerting. Every time you started to come out of it, you healed Doctor McKay more and then passed right out. And you started on Sheppard."

"Rodney and John..." He winced a little swallowing too big a mouthful. "Jennifer, my ability works by very basically convincing myself that other people's bodies are part of me. My powers probably thought I was healing myself. There's not been a lot of space between us for the last five weeks. It's become... subconscious."

He hoped she understood that and could read between the lines.

"You've all... developed. There's been a lot of talk that you're all going to ascend sometime." And she shrugged when she said it, still watching him eat like she expected him to disappear right then and there. Oh.

"I really don't think that's likely," Carson reassured. "I'm not feeling in the least bit glowy or particularly evolved, and I can assure you that neither are Rodney or John. Rodney might think he's a god, but he still has difficulties talking to people and the Colonel, well."

"You say that, but we see all three of you and wonder just what..." Keller shrugged her shoulders. "The end outcome of all of this research will be."

"There is a means of inhibiting the Human 3.0 powers Jennifer," Carson said, wanting to reassure her. "That much our ordeal did prove. If ascension takes place as a result of the genetic progression, it will be by choice."

"And then what? You're some of the most... I mean, half of the expedition could just ascend, and I never wanted your job, Doctor Beckett." It was late, and Keller was just... babbling, tense and sad and excited all at the same time.

"I'll hopefully be around for a while yet," Carson soothed. "If we develop an inhibitor, then that will help. Believe it or not, I doubt most people would choose to ascend."

"Seems like the better part of this galaxy did it sometime," Keller shrugged again, but he could feel her easing up a little. "Well, you get your rest."

"I'll do that. And say thank you to everyone for me," Carson murmured and settled back. He was going to be fine physically at least, but mentally might be a different kettle of fish.

He didn't want to start cataloging it yet, but he'd have to. After he rested.

Now that he knew that McKay and Sheppard were safe, maybe he could actually enjoy his sleep.

* * *

  
He wished he'd been joking about the therapy session that was scheduled for early the next morning. The idea of sitting in a chair across from Heightmeyer was about as palatable as laying his life's story out to a room full of jocks. Jocks with pickup trucks broken down in their front yards. He didn't want to do the overwrought talking thing, didn't want to discuss how he 'felt'.

He still showed up, despite that he would've preferred to linger over breakfast with John, and knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in Rodney," Kate said as she opened the door. "I've just made some of the Athosian tea. Would you like some?"

"Sweetener?" When the Athosians said they made a 'strong' cup of tea, what they should've meant was that it was very spicy and sharp, but deepened into something very palatable with any, any kind of sweetener.

"I think we can run to that. It is a little bracing," Kate admitted with a smile. "I have missed seeing you regularly. It is good to have you back on Atlantis."

"It's..." Something. "It's good to be back." She hadn't changed the decor any since the last time he'd been there. Rodney wandered in, eyes on the couch.

"Have a seat," she invited, sitting down as she poured out a mug of the brew. "Now is this a visit where you want to talk or you don't?"

"I don't know how talking is going to help," he shrugged.

"Ah." Kate tilted her head. "That's a sign that you need to talk."

That was typical shrink reasoning. "So what would you think I was going to ask you to talk about?"

"To talk about what happened when we were captive." He reached for the mug, eyeing her. "Weren't you?"

"Among other things," Kate replied. "Let's identify the priorities for this course of therapy. What is your priority Rodney?"

"I..." No idea, and that was probably the worst part, because he just shrugged. "I'd like to put it behind me."

"That's a good priority," Kate said. "So we will need to talk about what happened, and how you feel about it."

Rodney grimaced into his mug. "We were tortured and I didn't like it."

"...well, that's all there is to it then?" Kate said wryly. "That was easy. It'll probably take me three sessions to get Colonel Sheppard to admit even that."

"If he starts talking about drinks with umbrellas in them, he's lying." Though at one point Rodney was pretty sure they'd discussed that very thing in a sort of 'isn't Earth nice' way.

"Let's talk about something that isn't lying," Kate said. "What happened, Rodney -- I know the events written in the reports."

"That's funny. I haven't actually sat down to write a report yet." Rodney lifted an eyebrow at her. "I don't know where to start. We were ambushed, and they knew what they were doing."

"Colonel Sheppard wrote one. I believe it was very... factual," Kate answered. "So, we have a first issue. Being captured. How does that make you feel?"

"Irked. They hit me with a ceramic bullet. I can do something about it now, but you have no idea how frustrating it is to be... as powerful as I am and not to be able to do anything."

"Mmm, so you feel that you should've been able stop them from capturing you?" Kate queried.

"Yes." He shifted, fingers clinging to his mug. He could feel the heat seeping into his hands in the middle of their perfectly temperature controlled environment.

"And what about John or Carson? Should they have been able to stop it from happening, too?" Kate pointed out.

"No. Carson isn't defensive, and neither is John." Rodney frowned at her. "Look, I know what you're trying to imply, but I'm freakishly powerful and I should have, sensed their guns or something. I should have done more. I don't think that half of you really get that -- I could crush this whole room around us with really no more effort than eating a power bar when I was done. I've stopped Wraith darts with a ballistic trajectory. And they took me out with a ceramic bullet. Pottery!"

"A humiliating nemesis," Kate noted. "Interesting that you see the thing that stopped you as to blame rather than the people. Why is that?"

"Because I can't make evil bastards not be evil bastards with the exception of killing them. I'm used to controlling my environment which, hello, we've gone over before I went missing."

"Yes. What concerns me Rodney is that you might take responsibility for an event because of those constructs in your past," Kate said. "You told me that as a child you half believed that you were a god."

"Well, if you could fly when you were a teenager, what would you think? I don't think I'm a freak like most of the 3.0s." And they did. There was a strange undercurrent of shame that he could never get his head wrapped around.

"No. And that's a good thing. But it doesn't mean you aren't human, with all the human fallibility that exists." Her patient tone was pissing him off. "Being captured and being vulnerable is not a failing."

"No, it is. I got cocky. I should have anticipated it. I don't even wear plates in my tac vest because I didn't think it was worth the effort."

"And what will you do now? As a response?"

"I'm going to be more careful. I've learned some new things I can do." He took another sip of the tea, letting it linger on his tongue. "Whenever we eventually get back out into the field."

"I'm glad to hear that you're considering that as an option," she replied. "Let's go back to what happened. I want you to think about that time and give me the first thoughts that come to mind about your captivity."

That sounded like a miserable excuse for word association if he'd ever heard one. "It was painful, redundant. Humiliating."

"Take each of those descriptors and tell me an event that exemplifies each one?" Kate instructed.

"At one point they, to get Carson to work faster, which was stupid, because he ended up having to heal us which set him back, they, Kolya." Rodney took another sip of his tea. "Cut off my right testicle. That was painful in ways I have no words for. The 'training' was redundant, because it was the same tasks over and over, but with different levels of the inhibitor, when they could've just taken it off instead of toyed with us like that."

"And humiliation?" Kate prompted.

"When Kolya made me beg for sex as a 'reward' for a training session well done." The implant, he knew, was at the fault of it, but it didn't make things any less humiliating.

Kate nodded. "An expression of power over you. The report mentioned the effect of implants. What was that like?"

"Crippling. I use it like breathing -- if I want a pen, I don't reach for it, I just get it. I don't think about it. When I'm bored I toy with metal. My instinct to try to rip Kolya's blood out of him triggered pain inside of my own head."

"That must've been hard for you Rodney, like losing the use of a limb," Kate encouraged.

"Yes, of course it was hard for me. The fact that they just wanted me to throw metal through their wall was hard for me -- because if they were any sort of evil geniuses, I could've been making them bombs, I could've revolutionized their technology."

"Would that have been better?" Kate queried.

Would it? "Yeah. It would've. I would have known how to handle it."

"So you are in effect telling me you value your mind above power, Rodney?" Kate pointed out

"Without my mind, power's not half as useful," Rodney countered at her.

"That is true," Kate agreed. "It is an interesting priority though. You felt devalued by being valued for your power not yourself. That is a healthy outlook Rodney."

"Oh." Well, that was surprising. "Well, yes."

"Now, what do you think prompted the torture?" Kate asked. "Was it seemingly random?"

"Sheppard says it was to break us down. They rotated between reward and punishment, and just, torture."

"The Colonel was most likely correct. How did that make you feel, aside from obviously being in pain?" Kate said. "You said you were mutilated?"

"Yes." He rested the mug on his knee for a moment. "How do you think it made me feel? It was torture. It was hellish."

"People react in different ways Rodney. Some people find the helplessness more of a problem than the pain. Others become fixated on the physical harm or after effects," Kate explained.

"There are no after effects. I have no scars, no marks, no muscle stiffness, nothing. Kolya did everything he could think of short of slitting my throat, Carson healed it at night, so the next morning he had a fresh clean Rodney McKay to start on all over again. Same with John."

"You sound almost as if you resent there not being any after effects Rodney," Kate pointed out in a calm voice. "An implication that they might've been easier on you both if the damage had stayed."

"They wouldn't have. We would've been dead now, that's the only difference. I can't even tell you everything that happened because it blurred together so often, but Keller looked at me like I was insane when she asked what kinds of injuries we'd suffered. Like she thought I was lying."

"I suspect she was not aware that Dr. Beckett was able to heal injuries that were severe, or perhaps she could not conceive that you could be alive after suffering them," she said and sipped her cooling tea. "You use the word insane there, do you believe that that is what you should be after such an ordeal?"

"I don't know. I kind of... fell apart there at the end." He lifted the mug to his mouth again, took another sip. It was sweeter towards the bottom. "I don't remember much of the last day or so there. I started trying to work on my unified theory in my head. It... Well, it was a distraction. Last night, Sheppard and I stayed up and marathoned some Monty Python."

"Sensible coping strategies," Kate nodded. "It's to be expected that things got a little hazy and difficult. How do you feel about John and Carson, Rodney?"

"I don't know what you mean. They're my friends. They've been good, close friends for a while now, before this happened." Now he was a little confused, a little too interested in them sexually, and he wanted to put some distance between everything that had happened and any new action he took.

Kate was sitting just looking at him. "You know, Rodney, that's the first time in this conversation where you have elected to hide something from me, I know you well enough by now. Why is that?"

"Maybe because I don't know how to answer your question." He wished sometimes that he could've skewered people with a look.

"John then, what were your feelings towards John during your ordeal? How did they change?" Kate asked.

Did they change? Rodney shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I've always trusted him. I've always been worried about him. This isn't new."

"So what is different that you want to hide from me... or from yourself?" she prompted.

Rodney cleared his throat a little. "It's not that it's different on my side. But some... things came up, and we haven't discussed them among ourselves yet."

"Care to discuss that here?" Kate looked at him directly. "It might clarify things for your own discussions."

"Or it might muddy them," Rodney countered. "I still don't know what to say, and I don't want you testifying at any court martial proceedings."

"My sessions are under confidentiality Rodney," Kate assured him. "And with that response, you've told me what your concerns are about."

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if Caldwell didn't suspect, but we spend so much time together after missions for a really practical purpose because I can stretch my magnetic field out to him and... for lack of a better word, compress his molecules back to where they should have been."

"So you have a legitimate reason to be together," Kate said. "But you want it to be more than an association of convenience."

"Right. And Carson. It's gotten complicated, so..."

"Do you want them both?" Kate asked calmly as if it weren't strange to be discussing a potential threesome.

With the base therapist.

"Yes."

Kate nodded at him. "Why?" she asked simply, sipping at her tea which had to be going cold by now.

His was, murky luke-warm and sweet. "Why what? Why do I want them both? Because."

"Reasons, Rodney. You're good at making lists. Tell me reasons why you want John and why you want Carson?" Kate prodded.

Rodney snorted. "Fine. I'm interested in John because he's, he's...." It was hard to articulate, and there was no swell of gooey romantic feeling to go with the concepts. "He's someone I trust, I find him very physically attractive, and I find him personally attractive. Half the things he says I'm not sure whether to cringe or laugh or both. I'm interested in Carson because I trust him, he's physically attractive in a different way than John is, and I also find his personality attractive. If you want a numbered list that goes 'I'm not bothered by Sheppard's bear-pelt chest' and 'I like the dimples in Carson's ass', I'm going to need for you to procure some hard core drugs first."

"That could be arranged," Kate smiled. "You know, in some ways, Rodney, you are one of the most mentally adaptive people I have had the pleasure to work with. You don't realize how unusual it is to describe people you want in a realistic fashion, shorn of illusions. That is how you describe you own ordeal, shorn of any self-delusion."

According to Zelenka, Rodney deluded himself a lot, but that was good-natured ribbing between coworkers. "I've done the madly in love... with the idea of love thing. When I was younger. It's stupid, and it's a roller coaster, and I want people I deep down trust more than I want drama. They're my friends, and if... I can get more, then I want it. And if we talk about it and it's not something they find feasible, they're still going to be the best friends I've ever had."

She nodded. "I believe that circumstances have altered the state of these key relationships in your life, Rodney. Intense trauma has pushed you into focus and we will explore that effect in other sessions. Now, what are your feelings towards your captors?"

"I want them dead?" It seemed obvious to him -- to put that much effort into keeping the three of them captive and to really get so damn little out of it.

"Just dead, Rodney?" Kate asked and he wished she would show more emotion in her tone as clues.

"Look, I want them dead in gruesome, probably hysterical ways, but I feel exhausted and if I go into the detail that I can see in my head, I think I'm going to throw up. I want to rip Kolya into pieces, but I also know that I, I just can't. And anything I could actually do is... it's too quick. When you pull someone's blood through their chest, it's..." Rodney held a hand out, and stole a pen off of Kate's desk. "That quick. And about that satisfying."

"Well we've made a lot of progress for a first session, Rodney," Kate said. "What we'll focus on over the next few meetings is to strengthen your existing mechanisms for coping and ensure that you do not have repressed trauma and phobias that might affect you in the future."

He probably did, and they were probably well and nicely buried, because he didn't think he'd have the same non-reaction to wooden tables and ceramic kitchen knives that he'd always had before.

"Okay. Is that all?"

"For today, Rodney, "she said. "You're recovering. You may experience post traumatic stress. If you get symptoms, come to me."

He almost wanted to be obnoxious and ask her what the symptoms were, but Rodney had looked them all up when he'd first agreed to go on the mission, and memorized them. Flashbacks, anger, restlessness, avoidance, fear of freaking out and hurting someone, inability to sleep, hyper vigilance.

Hyper vigilance. And John looking around the room like he was waiting for it to all go wrong all over again, from the mess hall to Rodney's quarters. "John... I, he didn't sleep last night. Well, he did, but it was maybe for a half an hour or two, and he hasn't.... ratcheted down."

"I will talk with him Rodney," Kate said. "Are you worried about him?"

"Yes." It struck him as a stupid sort of question. "I am. He hasn't calmed down since we finished that mission for them."

"How was he on that mission?" She asked intently and Rodney got the distinct impression she was thinking John was going to be the difficult one.

"Rushed, tense. He'd asked me to do something and thirty seconds later he'd ask if I was done yet. Rinse and repeat for the, oh, ten minutes it took for me to scan the base and make us a couple of weapons. The whole time he was snapping sticks."

She pursed her lips a little and nodded as if that meant something. "Thank you, Rodney, I need to know things like that. Anything else?"

He wished he could remember, but those last few days had melted together with pain and senseless 'testing', and if Carson hadn't turned off the inhibitors, he would have already gone crazy. "No, nothing else that comes to mind."

Kate smiled a little. "That's fine. Now, I believe you have to rest on orders from the Infirmary..."

He snorted, and stood up. "I'm going. I can take the hint."

And he could. He wasn't sure if he felt exactly better in himself but he was glad that someone else knew how worried he was about John at the very least. If nothing else, that was useful.

* * *

  
John hated therapy, and he'd become adept at avoiding the painful consequences of talking. He didn't see the point of dragging it all up waving it around again. Push it down; lock it away. That worked for him. So far, Kate had been chipping away at him for what seemed like forever and he had been getting even more laconic in his responses.

She was probably damn frustrated in him.

"John." She finally crossed her legs at the knee, and sat back in her chair. "I need you to work with me. This isn't just about you."

Low blow. That was practically the only thing that might get him to talk. "I don't see what good it will do," he said with a shrug.

"Just... All I'm asking for, John, is openness and honesty. Repressing what you're feeling will only hinder your interpersonal relationships."

Tricky. He wasn't good with those and Carson was like an expert and Rodney, for god's sake _Rodney_ , was better at it than he was right now and that was a bit disturbing.

"I... fine. Openness and honesty. Hit me with it."

"You've been reported to be acting in an anxious manner. Do you feel anxious right now?"

"Do I look anxious?" he replied automatically. Who was saying that he was acting anxiously? "Who reported that?"

"Do you want my honest answer to that question?" He wasn't sure that he did, but Kate went on. "Yes, you do look anxious."

Great. "It's the hair isn't it? I've got nervous hair." The words came out even as he considered what she said and winced. "Okay, I'm...a little hyped."

"Why do you say that?"

"We got out alive and… you know there's reaction to that so I don't sleep well," he said.

"You're not sleeping well because you got out alive? I'd really like to understand what you believe the source of your anxieties is."

"It's reaction, doc. Aftershocks, that sort of thing." Surely John was entitled to be a bit twitchy? "And I worry about Rodney and Carson."

There, he threw her a bone on the anxiety front.

"All right. Let's explore that, but don't think I'm going to forget about your anxiety, John. Why do you worry about Doctors McKay and Beckett?"

"Because they were tortured and put through brainwashing techniques," John said a little sharply.

"And you weren't?" Ah, that was her point.

"I've experienced it before. They haven't." he said shortly.

"And this is a difference that matters because...?" Kate's eyes were trained on him, and he wondered what she saw.

"It matters because I knew what to expect," he replied. "They didn't. "

And he couldn't protect them from it. He damn well couldn't do anything.

"Does expecting that level of torture help? Did it help you at all, John?"

"I knew I could survive," he replied flatly. "I knew pain was pain, and where I was in my head was more important."

"Where were you in your head, John?" Places he didn't want to tell her about.

He got up, and moved to the window, looking out at the ocean. Kate had a nice view, he always noticed that. "Not there," he said eventually and had to force himself to continue. "I... do this thing. Focus on something or someone else."

"What were you focusing on?"

He sighed a little. "McKay and Beckett," he replied still staring out the window.

"McKay and Beckett as people, or in a particular scenario, or...?"

"What?" he turned to face her. "As people."

"Tell me what you were focusing on in particular," Kate coaxed, and he didn't feel any compelling reason why he needed to answer that.

So he didn't for a bit, because he'd been focusing on saving them, protecting tem and he'd failed with every scream, every cut of the knife.

"Getting them out of there. Stopping it happening to them," he said eventually. "Getting them through it."

"Which you did," Kate pointed out. "They're out of it and through the ordeal. Do you think you can relax now?"

He glanced at her. "No. I didn't get them through it. I didn't do anything."

She exhaled and sat back. "Why do you say that, John?"

Because it was true. "Because it's a fact," he replied sharply. There wasn't anything else to say. His ability to phase had been useless or a liability. He hadn't stopped them being tortured, he hadn't protected them. Rodney had been the one to get him out.

"That's funny, because I didn't receive that impression from Doctor McKay. I think you did everything you could to protect them in a situation that had to be humiliating. How did that make you feel?"

"Look, I'm meant to protect them," he snapped. "I think the facts speak for themselves. We got captured. We got tortured, used, abused. Carson got us through that, Rodney got us out."

"How does your perceived failure to protect them make you feel, John?" She was using his name, not his rank, not his last name.

He knew the tricks. He knew she was trying to make him the person, not the job, but person or job, he'd still let it happen, but it wasn't his way get depressed about it.

"John?" It was a prompt. "If I have to, I could mention that it's your duty to be in the best condition possible for your team and this base. That includes your mental well being."

"How the hell do you think it makes me feel, Kate?" he asked in a dangerously low voice as he turned around. "How do you feel when one of your patients loses it and kills themselves? I feel like I've lived up to everyone's expectations of failure."

"John, the people I've talked to don't expect you to fail. Have you talked to Doctor McKay and Doctor Beckett about your perception?"

"No," John replied. That should be obvious. Kate was deluding herself if she thought people weren't thinking like that. Caldwell, most of the SGC or Air Force, all waiting for it. His dad, since he was a teenager... yeah.

"You should. I know you view me as an obstacle to overcome, John, but they're friends and people whose opinions I believe you trust. I could tell you that you're not a failure until the sun sets, and you're just going to smile, nod, and then leave with an unchanged mind, aren't you?"

"Pretty much, yeah," John gave her a disarming grin. "Think it would take longer than any of us have got to stop me believing that."

"Then maybe we should work on that in our next session," Kate offered. "I also want you to be honest if you suffer any nightmares or have trouble sleeping."

John snorted a little. "I don't sleep when I don't know how they're doing," he answered. "Honest enough for you?"

It was maybe too honest for her because she looked a little taken aback that he'd actually shared information. "Why don't you sleep without that information?"

John wasn't actually sure. "There were times when we were apart and that was the hardest wondering what they had done, if they were dead..."

As if he could control any of it just by being present.

"But you know that we're in Atlantis now."

"It never switches off that easy," John answered. He suspected even now he'd do something ridiculous to ensure the safety of Jack O'Neill, his one time black ops partner, even if he'd not had a problem with the sleeping as much.

"Do you have a mechanism that you use to 'switch it off'?" She didn't sound dubious, at least. It was a tiny, small relief.

He shrugged. "Usually it happens when I see they're okay. Happy. Recovered."

"When will you believe that they're happy and recovered?"

When he saw a laugh and knew it was real, on knew they slept without nightmares. When the banter returned without strain. "I'll just know, I guess."

"And what if they personally have trouble reaching that point because of worry for your sake?"

"Why would they worry about me?" The words were out before he considered them properly.

Kate looked at him hard, and then looked at her clock. "That's your assignment until we meet again the day after tomorrow, John. Think about why they'd worry about you."

"Sure," he agreed, more than a little relieved to be out of there. It hadn't changed anything.

Except that he'd lost some time, and he needed to get to the infirmary, needed to see if Carson was getting released yet.

* * *

  
Keller had given him the same talk and papers that he'd assumed she'd given John and Rodney. He was sure he'd end up comparing his 'diet' plan with Rodney's, just so Rodney could gripe about it, and Carson personally found it a little superfluous. He knew how to take care of himself; he didn't need one of his underlings telling him about the effects of malnutrition as if he was unaware of how he'd acquired those deficiencies in the first place.

She didn't know how he worked, and sometimes he wasn't completely sure of the mechanism of how he would lose literal muscle mass if he tried to heal too rapidly. Usually it would come from the injured person, but in dire situation it would come from him and he couldn't stop it. And there had been a few of those situations to deal with.

His most difficult problem was trying to work out what was going on in his own head. He'd overlapped almost too much with Rodney and John, and though in a crisis it had been useful and necessary, it left him with the impact of three lots of post traumatic stress and an inability to work out which was actually his.

He was sure that most of his had been tied up in beatings and being forced to watch them torture John and Rodney, but there was the pain of healing them, of seeing them brought in tired and mutilated most nights. And even now, he was left wondering where they were, while he gathered up his papers and considered heading up to his quarters.

He had research to think about, methodology to consider about working out the inhibitor substance which he'd started on and then felt Keller getting a little bit too interested, so he'd put it away.

He had no right to be traumatized by the empathic echo of their experiences. They had been tortured and conditioned, not him and even if he'd felt it, that wasn't the same as experiencing it.

He could reach for them, his range had stretched some, but he wasn't sure if they wanted their alone time as he's sensed the need to talk or resolve something between the two of them. Yeah, he'd head to his quarters, somewhat slowly. It wasn't as if their quarters were far from his, because the staff heads had all put themselves in close quarters from the start.

He'd only just gotten to the transporter off of the floor the infirmary was on when the doors slid open and Rodney almost walked into him.

"Oh. Hello, Rodney," he said, smiling a little. "I've finally been thrown out of the Infirmary."

"That's a good coincidence -- I've been thrown out of therapy. John should be out sometime in the hour. Ish." Rodney edged close, hands out like he thought Carson needed steadying. "Where to?"

"I was just going to my room," Carson said. "To get away from the Infirmary looking over my shoulder all the time. Do you want to come in?"

"Sure. Because I've been banned from the labs for at least four days, which I find insane," Rodney commented, opening the transporter doors for them.

He stepped inside and could feel Rodney's stirred up emotions bleeding across into him. He just needed to maybe lie down a while and pick his way through what started with Rodney and what ended with him. "How was therapy?"

"Heightmeyer seems to think I'm surprisingly sane and well adjusted." Rodney lifted his chin as they stepped out. "Which I'm not actually feeling, but it wasn't as bad as I was expecting."

"You're stronger than most people assume Rodney. Stronger than you assume," Carson pointed out. "Mm."

He keyed his door open, trying to remember if he had cleaned things up before he went on a mission. It had been over five weeks.

"It feel strange, going back after so long," Rodney remarked, shadowing Carson into the dark room that slowly lit up for Carson. The curtains had been pulled. "I had an apple going bad in my desk drawer."

"I hope I didn't forget anything," Carson replied, smelling the air. Couldn't smell anything. "Ah, home at last."

"Does it still feel like home?" Rodney was lingering by the door, like he wasn't sure what to do, like he wasn't sure if he was invited to be there or not.

Carson glanced over his shoulder. "Strangely, more so than the Infirmary right now. Are you coming in Rodney? I didn't think I had to ask."

"Yes, well, I uh, I wasn't sure if you wanted company or not..." Rodney came in, though, let the door close behind him.

"Rodney, you're not the same as company," Carson said looking at him. "Or John. I would've thought the accidental alarm call in the middle of the night trying to find you might've given that away."

"Right. It was actually pretty startling when the, we think it was the city itself reached out. For you." Rodney moved in, and pulled the chair out from Carson's stoic desk. "But we actually were awake."

"They gave me the wrong type of painkillers," Carson shrugged a little and sat on the bed. "I couldn't feel you and that was horrifying."

Terrifying enough to get him flailing around helplessly.

He was grateful that Rodney and John hadn't witnessed that. "And you've gotten used to feeling us," Rodney guessed. "It was surreal. Part of me wants to pretend that everything's just fine and normal, and the rest of me... isn't. We had trouble sleeping last night."

"I know." He hesitated and winced. "It's a wee bit more complicated than that actually. I'm... I'm normally good with emotions, but right now I'm pretty sure I'm overlapping all of us and things are a bit..uh..."

"Overlapping?" Rodney gestured Carson to the chair, an offer before he decided to sit in it.

"You have it, I'm sitting on the bed," Carson answered. "Look it's... like, normal emotions are like someone talking to you. I have to be close but I can tell what it means and whose 'voice' it is, like you do if someone is talking. But after a trauma like this, there's a formless sort of set of emotional screams or wordless shouts, groans or moans on a very deep level all the bloody time and I don't know if they're yours, Johns or my own and it's driving me bloody crazy."

"Why?" Rodney twisted the chair around, leaning himself on it. "I mean, not why do you think it's driving you crazy, but why is it happening?"

"You did things you didn't think you could've done there didn't you? So did I. I went to a cellular, molecular level of empathy with you and John," Carson admitted. "I don't regret that at all, it was just necessary."

Rodney was staring at him, which was really the thing that Carson had expected. "But how... How does that work?"

"Ever tried molecular yourself, Rodney?" Carson asked raising his eyebrows. "I'm not sure how it works, I wouldn't have thought it possible myself but there it is. It's how I was healing without touching, how I can sense for you two far beyond what I thought were my limits."

"Yes, but there's enacting something on that level and then there's... emotions." The non-tangible, which was where Rodney was caught up.

"Emotions are just another form of energy, Rodney," Carson said. "Which is why I guess I could act as a portable battery for you when we were pushing out of that hellhole. I suppose in a way, most of the talents are based on that. Different forms of energy sensitivities, some with an active or a passive nature."

It was an interesting thought. There was a possibility he had never considered of being able to share the emotional side of his power. It couldn't be that dissimilar to healing their bodies.

"Except that I've never gotten entangled with a knife, and you said you can't sort out what's..." Rodney waved a hand slightly.

"That's the difference between 'voodoo' and proper science Rodney," Carson said with a smile. He was practically itching to touch him. "Um, I..."

No, asking him to come over and be hugged was ridiculous.

"Hmn?" Rodney wasn't a mind reader, though. He wouldn't guess at what Carson was thinking of asking.

"I don't suppose you'd like to sit closer. Like... on the bed closer?" he asked tentatively.

"Ah." Rodney did move, though, stood up, and moved to sit beside Carson on the bed. "I was considering investing in some of those bean bag things the Eklavians kept trying to push on us."

Just having him that close was a relief, even if he could 'hear' his emotions more clearly. The impulse then was to comfort and soothe him and he managed to contain that desire to reaching for his hand. "The ones that were like enormous beds that took half an hour to get out of?"

"Those, yeah. We're supposed to be doing some simple trade with them next week, maybe I could bribe Lorne to trade them something and drag one back." Banter as cover for deeper concerns was normal for Rodney, but it was thick, tangible now.

Emotions like a thick murky soup lapping over him, the texture strange and mysterious as it rolled into him. Rodney ached with a need for someone to help him, fix him and it was like a terrible addiction for him, to fall into that looking for ways, wanting to hold him.

He wasn't really aware of what he was doing, not until he heard Rodney sigh and felt Rodney pulling at him to stretch out on the bed with him. "See, this is why we need one of those beanbag things. If we're going to end up doing a dogpile, I'd prefer it on something comfortable..."

"You and John... you want to talk?" he asked, becoming aware he had been almost nuzzling Rodney somehow.

"I think we, we... all of us need to talk about what we're doing. I don't need a big long therapy thing, I just... want to know we're all on the same page."

"What page do you think we're on?" Carson murmured. He was pretty sure they were. Well, in the same book at least.

"The one that eventually, uh..." Rodney shifted fingers, pressing against the fabric of Carson's T-shirt. "The three of us. Trying some kind of, uh, not exactly limited to friendship relationship."

"I think I'm a paragraph or two ahead of you there," Carson admitted. "Have been for sometime."

He could feel Rodney's relief, seeping out to Carson like water over sand. "Oh, thank god. Because I told Heightmeyer that I'd be fine if things, if I was viewing things the wrong way, but I was also lying when I said it."

Sometimes it was good to have empathic powers because it made saying things like, "I love you Rodney, I have for a long time, before all of this..." actually quite simple and easy to say.

It didn't make Rodney's quiet any easier to take. "You love me. You... not like a brother, but sexually?"

"Yes, Rodney, I do." He couldn't help reaching for him, physically and emotionally then. "But I know you haven't exactly felt the same way about me so much. Not like..." Not like with John. He'd seen that invisible emotional tango going on every time they entered a room together.

"I'm not good at relationships. But since you haven't tried to poison me, I haven't... You just need to tell me when I'm doing things wrong. That's what always gets me in the end, that I don't notice, and...." It fell apart, presumably, and Rodney shifted, leaning in as they lay there sideways on Carson's mattress with their feet on the ground.

"The one good thing about being an empath, Rodney, is that I'll know even if you forget to say anything." He smiled a lot then, feeling warmth spread over him.

It got him a quiet 'hmn' noise from Rodney, and then Rodney leaned in to kiss him. Finally, something that wasn't motivated by pain or desperation.

That was worth lapping up, holding on to desperately. It was sweet as honey; golden warm over his senses, and it had been a long time since he remembered how wonderful sex could be with his sense open. Receptive, with no fear of pain or punishment. There was nothing more than Rodney's mild sense of curiosity tangled up in it when he started to pull back. "Hi."

He smiled back at him. "I love you," he murmured back. "And so does John. "

"Right, and what with the military code and us being three men, I can see this just being smooth sailing." It was sharp and snarking of Rodney, but he still leaned in and kissed Carson again. There were misgivings in with the want and that was... all right.

"Nothing worth having is easy. Otherwise I wouldn't want you so much," Carson teased as he tried to pull himself out of the warmth and heat

It was hard, though, because Rodney seemed to be comfortable lying there. "I should probably go up fishing for John. Heightmeyer'll be done with him, soon. I, uh. He's been pretty high strung."

"Mmm. Tell him I need him. John'll do anything for someone else and nothing for himself. No point telling him something is for his own good," Carson answered. "It has the advantage of being the truth."

Rodney shifted, starting to sit up. "Right. Do you want us to get anything?"

"That depends how far you think things might go," Carson smiled a little. "Just you and John, Rodney, that's all I need."

"Oh. I was thinking, uh. Snacks, movies..." Probably a laptop to play them on, because that was what he and John had been doing without Carson.

"Oh, well, in that case, by all means," Carson agreed. He was in danger of getting too swept up in emotion to judge what needed to be done. He wanted everything he could, physically, and Rodney seemed more likely to take things more slowly. John... Well, he could only guess.

"Right. We'll relocate lazy central here, then, if that's all right with you? I think your quarters are bigger than mine."

"Absolutely fine," Carson agreed. "I'll tidy up a little while you go get him."

And maybe Rodney might be emboldened enough to kiss John and reassure him directly.

"Tidy up?" Rodney looked surprised as he straightened his clothes. "Why? It's fine in here."

"I'd just like things to be comfortable," Carson said. "And it'll give me something to do until you get back."

"Just remember the rotting apple in my desk." Which summarized Rodney's standards for cleanliness nicely, yes. Rodney glanced around Carson's room, and shook his head before he turned towards the door. "I'll be back soon."

Carson watched him go, still maintaining a sense of his presence even as he moved away. He wanted a shower more than anything so he took a little time to do that. They might be thorough in the Infirmary, but nothing beat a hot shower and clean clothes. Then he set about dealing with lights and seeing if he still had anything to share with guests that hadn't spoiled in five weeks. A few gifts from home, sealed tins of shortbread he was sure Rodney would like, and John. If the time was right, he had a couple of good bottles of alcohol hidden away from prying eyes. John might need that, so he got the scotch out with due reverence, and then he was reduced to waiting, lying on the bed and trying to painstakingly unravel threads of emotion from one another.

If he could work out what threads were, say, John's, and what were Rodney's, then he could be assured that most of the rest were his own experiences working in his mind. He couldn't just ignore it all, because it had been devastating to him in a way that was different from what had happened to Rodney and John. Not worse, not easier, just different.

He had the mental tools to deal with his own problems, but these other emotions were difficult to handle. Tug a thread and it would become a tangle, so he had to pull and twitch patiently to unravel even one. He managed that before he felt John and Rodney heading his way again.

He was fairly sure that one, single line of anxiety, wasn't his. There was a good dose of self-recrimination, fear of failure that felt unjustified to him.

And then there was a knock on his door.

"Come in," he called out and Atlantis obliged him by opening the door so he didn't have to get up. "John, Rodney...you were lucky I didn't fall asleep again."

John was definitely stirred up. It was a little like he'd done a hatchet job on himself.

Rodney was carrying a plastic tote, and he generally seemed pleased with himself. "They're not going to bother us unless there's an emergency, seeing as we're all on enforced rest, and while we still have earpieces, I think I have everything we need here."

"We've even got some new movies. And Rodney stole a digital projector so we could pretend it was a big screen."

Carson smiled a little. "I can take some things off of the wall."

"I didn't steal it, I borrowed it. It was gathering dust, anyway." Rodney declared, eyeing Carson's walls. "I can do it."

"We have food, too," John offered. "I have a surprise for both of you from the kitchens."

"Oh aye?" Carson was intrigued. "what would that be?"

The box John put down was quite small, but Carson loved the way it seemed to make John happy just to have it there.

"A surprise?" Rodney leaned over, peering at the box even while he unwound the projector's power cord. "Do I get to ask what it is, or do you prefer to do a big reveal?"

"Oh big reveal," John replied with a half smirk. "When we're ready for movies."

"I'm working on it." Rodney started to unhook what looked like a portable DVD player to connect it to the projector. "So, Carson, pick your poison..."

"What do we have?" He managed to sneak a touch of John's arm as he was laying out food and snacks. "I really don't mind. I'm just liking the company."

"Comedies of varying degrees of taste, a few action 'classics', as John's dubbed them, and a bit of Sci-Fi."

John didn't flinch from him, which was a start. "I'm for mindless action classics right now," he offered. "Die Hard's in there."

"That'll be fine. I always enjoy the commentary I get from you both on that," Carson smiled. It meant they could talk as well if they wanted to. "Would you both mind sitting close to me? It does really help."

John appeared to glance at Rodney, and Carson wondered what they had talked about before getting there.

"I don't think it'll be a problem," Rodney smiled, waving a hand before the projector came on upside down, and he leaned in to calibrate it. "Hold on -- John, can you grab me a chair to prop this up on?"

"Sure, Rodney." John sauntered over. He was trying too hard, Carson could tell that much. He put the scotch on the table, and the beers from the kitchens, and they must be in favor because they had more than one each. He sat down as he watched John and Rodney engineer the perfect projector. It was nice just to watch them -- Rodney not quite as steady as usual, and John, yes, definitely trying too hard to seem normal, in a way that stung because Carson didn't want John to have to try that hard with them.

People didn't always appreciate him coming right out with what he thought or felt and John was probably a bit like that, although Rodney had mentioned something about John bringing the subject up.

Eventually though, they settled down even as John pressed play and the film opened to the sounds of Jingle Bell rock. "Big reveal now, John?" he prompted.

Rodney shifted to sit on the bed beside Carson, keeping room for John. "I'm curious what it is now."

John did open the box with some degree of occasion. "Thought you two needed a pick me up," he said and lifted the lid. Immediately there was a waft of a rich wonderful smell.

"Bloody Hell John, is that...chocolate?"

"Chocolate cake?" Rodney twisted, leaning past Carson a little. "We haven't seen that since, well, since Earth, this is..." He looked at John. The cake smelled warm and more than a little inviting, and it was a miracle that Rodney didn't just stick a hand in it.

"I smiled nicely at the kitchen staff." John smiled, and Carson was amazed at how much satisfaction John seemed to take from their surprise and enjoyment.

"Can we have some?" Carson asked hopefully.

"That's why I brought it." John looked down into his box of supplies. "Uh, I've got forks, but not plates."

"I can get that." Carson pushed himself up. Having them that close made him relax, all loose limbed and unknotting. He got a knife for good measure, getting back just as John McLane made it to the soon to be destroyed skyscraper. "Here we go."

John took the knife and sectioned off the cake, while Rodney half-eyed the movie and half eyed the cake. "You're a miracle worker, John."

"On cake at least." There was a sliver of guilt and recrimination there even as John handed out the cake.

Carson suspected he was feeling that about everything. Guilty somehow. He took a bite of the cake and nearly curled up in pleasure.

"Best thing I've had since we got out," Rodney murmured, settling back in beside them both, inhaling the first few bites before he slowed down. "Cake. I, I have to hand it to you, John -- thank you. This is..."

Their enjoyment was like little bursts of pleasure with each bite. Carson felt like he was getting pleasantly buzzed just from chocolate.

"Call it a thank you." John was pretending to watch the movie.

"Mm, for what?" Rodney shifted, lying back against the pillows.

"For getting us out of there," John said, oh and there was the plummeting sensation of crushing depression that made him dizzy.

"Yes, because I was a miracle worker with that wooden door thwarting me," Rodney said around his fork.

"You got us out," John insisted, and Carson realized John was deadly serious about that. He didn't see he had played any part in it.

"John, you did as well," he put into the conversation.

"I wouldn't have made it out of the base if you hadn't phased me." Rodney sat up more, and Carson could feel curiosity and irritation mingling.

"And we would've been killed trying to escape. It's okay, I'm fine about it."

"No, you're not," Carson corrected automatically.

"Look, I'm willing to take my share of credit, but Carson disabled the implants, you got the door open and I just ploughed us through the roof."

"Bloody hell, the both of you," Carson interrupted. "Face it, we all contributed one way or another. John, you just feel bad about not being able to protect us because you feel that it's your job."

"Like that's going to be all that it takes," Rodney snorted. "Yes, he'll just accept that he's wrong, now."

"Why wouldn't he?" Carson asked rhetorically. He looked at John. "You kept me together, John. And Rodney. Like a rock."

"Right." Rodney moved, leaning over Carson a little to peer at John, too. "You did. And then you get us cake. You need to stop knocking yourself for what you did or didn't do."

"You don't get it." Carson put a hand on John while he said that.

"At the risk of being annoying, I do John, I really do."

"It's your job to keep us safe, yes, yes." Rodney waved his fork at John, leg pressed up against Carson's. "And you did, as well as could be expected given the circumstances. And it's my job to break us out of tough spots, which I couldn't do in a timely manner, either. If you want to look at it that way, Carson was the only one of us who did his damn 'job' while we were there."

"Aside from the fact it was my fault we were there at all," Carson pointed out.

"Oh, come on. How is that your fault?"

"They wanted my research, my expertise for a change, though I'm sure they were ecstatic to have the pair of you," Carson reminded them both, and as he was doing it, more and more threads of emotion were becoming easier to recognize.

He could separate out pieces of Rodney and John with more ease, because they were bothered by that suggestion. "Existing isn't a fault."

"Sometimes it is all the fault anyone needs," Carson replied sucking on a piece of chocolate frosting from his finger. "Listen, I know everything that we're feeling here, I just...don't know who it belongs to at the moment. I can feel shame, self-recrimination, hurt, vulnerability, anger, rage, despair, hatred, worthlessness to name but a few. But here and now, I can feel relaxation, pleasure, need, want, nervous excitement." He paused a little. "That might just be me, though."

There was a twinge of paranoia, and he knew that had to be John and possibly Rodney, and not himself. "Hrmh." Rodney sat back, dragging his fork through frosting. "We could probably argue this to death, whose fault it is."

"Here's a novel idea," John said eating a bit of cake thoughtfully. "We could try blaming Kolya in the first instance and then take it in turns for it to be our fault afterwards."

Carson snorted a little at that.

"Smartass. Therapy went that well, huh? Or was that your 'homework'?" Rodney was taking his time with what was left of his chunk, working on the frosting.

"She pulled the 'everyone's counting on you, John' emotional blackmail thing," John replied and Carson could feel him watching what Rodney was doing and....

Oh well, not too much of a problem with the attraction then after all. He was starting to blush.

"I think 'we're worried about you' might be more realistic. I'd sort of like all three of us to be okay at some point after all of this..." The fact that John could still watch Rodney suck frosting off of his fork was fairly heartening.

Carson was about half a breath away from announcing, 'let's have some life affirming sex' but decided that might not be his best idea. He could at least wait for the movie to be over before he tried that one.

"We'll get there," John said. "Post traumatic stress is a given. I'll be okay when I know you guys are okay. Kate didn't seem to get that."

"I just don't know how fast we'll be 'okay'. I suspect working would help, but..." That was the one thing they were banned from doing -- until something went horribly wrong.

Carson exhaled. "The thing is... there's a difference between being hurt and being broken. And they didn't completely break us because...well we're not the type for that. Other people would've broken. They would've found the rape too much, the torture too much and the guilt..."

John looked away from him. "And there are all the natural feelings that people are going to hate you if they only knew," he continued on. "Well, we know, and I know I don't hate either of you. Kinda the opposite."

"Part of it is that... I don't think anyone's really looking at us differently. Keller thinks that I'm insane when I tried to tell her just some of the things that happened to us, but. Castrated. I don't think I'm ever going to shake the fear that one day my right testicle will decide that it wants to move on. And this is completely not connected to the fact that you healed it, Carson. I mean, if you hadn't, we'd all be dead ten times over." Rodney put the fork down on his plate for a moment, leaving the cake alone. "Actually, I hadn't thought about it, but O'Neill would probably 'get it'."

And most of them thought O'Neill was generally three cards short of a full deck.

Carson saw John slouch down a little more. "He would," John said. "He's been through stuff." He was about to say something and then John surprised him by continuing. "I've seen it happen to him."

"Yeah?" Rodney didn't know O'Neill, but that was part of being a scientist -- they tended to be insulated from the military mission. At least, before Atlantis.

"Yeah." John didn't sound like he was going to say anything but Carson could feel him really trying hard to break through a natural tendency to hide.

"Go on, John," he encouraged. "What happened?"

"I was his… black ops partner for a while. Every now and then there would be someone with the right intelligence to take us down," he said uncomfortably. "And I'd say never again... but..."

"It happened," Rodney cut in quietly. "And then there was the Goa'uld and the Sarcophagus."

Carson blinked, sitting up as that casual phrase fired off a possibility in his head. The mechanism was incredibly similar, how could he have missed that? He was an idiot. It meant...it meant when he worked out the inhibitor, it was a means of safely rendering a Goa'uld harmless! "That's...bloody brilliant. Rodney, you're a genius!" he said casting around for pen and paper.

"Yes, but what did I say?" He could feel Rodney's confusion, and he and John were probably sharing looks at each other, but he needed something to write with and his desk meant he needed to get off the bed.

"The implant! The inhibitor and control function, it works like a Goa'uld... why didn't I see that before?" Carson said finally finding something to write with. He just needed the shape of the idea down. "When I develop the inhibitor, I can render the Goa'uld harmless. I can switch it off like I did with you!"

"Wait, wait -- explain this slowly and with less voodoo for the astrophysicist?" The bed creaked as Rodney moved to sit on the edge, and it caught John's attention.

"How does it work like a Goa'uld?"

"The way it controlled you both. Involuntary override of the will and body, " Carson said scribbling it down.

"So that thing in our heads, was like... one of the evil alien snakes?" John asked slowly and Carson nodded, and was surprised to feel a level of acceptance slot into place for John. He understood about Goa'uld, he knew and understood what could happen with them.

"Yes, yes, and I managed to block the principal control mechanism, pheromones, complex molecular codes."" Carson said scribbling messily. This was important and this was more a Rodney way of thinking. He began to wonder if he had blended with that too.

"Yes, but can you replicate the actual physical device?" Rodney asked, leaning to look over Carson's shoulder.

"I don't need to. For the inhibitor, it's a chemical pheromone that it secreted. And likewise, blocking it back needed something similar. The brain works on a balance of biochemistry." Carson stopped his scribbling. "There, enough so I don't lose the thread."

"You think it'll work, doc?" John asked.

"Assuming I can replicate the substance, yes."

"But how do you... Control it? If this is something you could administer with a needle stick..." Rodney felt terrified as he suggested that.

"What?" Carson looked at him. "What's wrong?" Why was Rodney feeling like that?

"Have you ever come across the NID? If this is something that can, could control a Human 3.0 with an injection, the ramifications..."

John caught that same feeling and Carson hesitated. "But… the inhibitor could be vital, needed for people who have out of control talents... Lorne, he'd definitely want to use it. Some of the others as well..."

There were times he just wanted to stop feeling. To feel his own emotions. Not to sit and be bombarded by everyone around him constantly.

"If it's self-administered only, sure," Rodney muttered. "Sure. Except there are people who don't like that we exist."

"He's got a point," John said in a low voice and Carson shook his head.

"What about those who are out of control? Those with powers that aren't easy to control?" he said. "You and Rodney, you can use yours at will. What about those of us who can't?"

Like himself. Sometimes it would be good not to feel pain, or emotion. Just..for a little while.

"And I said, if we can find a way to keep this self-administered, I don't have a problem with it. I'm sure Lorne would love to have some control over it. But if we're ever suspected of a foothold situation and some marine can come up behind me and stick me in the back with it, I'm..." Rodney waved a hand in the air, and there was that anxiety. Helplessness. Maybe Rodney and John didn't know how to exist without their root 3.0-ness.

Maybe he didn't either, but there were times when he just felt himself stretched beyond his limit. The excitement at a potential form of major discovery was completely quashed and he looked away at the neglected movie for a moment before nodding.

"Maybe if there were an antidote of some description." John sounded worried now for him as well as because of what he was saying.

They were quiet for a few moments; the only noise in the room was the movie, while Carson contemplated crushing his hastily scribbled notes. It wouldn't have been the first time that he'd spelled a species doom, if what Rodney was saying was right. "If it's chemical, it should -- Carson, hey, no, it's a good idea, it's..."

"I don't even know if it's possible," Carson said in a low voice. He shrugged. "I was thinking selfishly. You're right, it needs more thought."

"Maybe, but..." Rodney tilted his head, and reached to pick up his own half-decimated piece of cake. "You. You want to use it yourself, don't you?"

He nodded. "It would be nice not to feel... everything sometimes," he answered. "I... the pain and the feelings. Sometimes I could just use a break. I can't turn it off."

"What not at all?" John asked.

He shook his head. "No."

"If it could..." Rodney shifted, leaned into Carson's side. "If I could make the actual physical implant again. And people could volunteer to have it implanted and control it themselves -- turning it up and down, like was done with John and I."

"I suppose that is a possibility," Carson admitted. Perhaps he could come up with something less intrusive and uniquely keyed so it only worked on an individual. The fact did not escape him that sometimes a 3.0 might have to be restrained.

"And since it does produce a pheremonal effect? I, anything I could do will be useless without your research. That you're going to go ahead with, right?" It was funny that Rodney accidentally tore down his hopes, and tried to hastily patch them back up.

"I'll think about it," Carson said. They were right, they were always right. He'd made a mistake before, been blinded by the close proximity of Perna and her falling for him that drowned out everything else. He never told anyone how badly that had affected him. He'd saved her, but only her and woken up in the Infirmary and half a world was dead.

It wasn't his fault, they'd told him. He'd told the Hoffans not to push the drug wide scale, but he'd been the one to advance their technologies so far so fast, and half a planet was dead. "You should do it," Rodney said, glancing sideways at John.

John felt conflicted, but he nodded. "I'm pretty sure that Lorne and that guy who keeps melting chairs would be pretty glad to have that."

"Tomorrow maybe," Carson said. "We're missing the movie." They were well into the first stages of the hostile takeover and he exhaled.

"It's hackneyed anyway," Rodney shrugged, still leaning against Carson's side. "So. Uh..."

"It's a classic," John said. "You okay, Carson?"

"I'm fine, really." Carson began relaxing again.

"Are you sure?" Rodney picked his fork up, and stuck it into cake again. "I'm, look, I uh. I'm sorry. It's just that John and I didn't have good experiences with this..."

"It's okay, really, I didn't think it through," Carson reassured. "Mine isn't a defensive or offensive ability so it didn't occur to me to think about it in that way."

"And we weren't thinking about it from your side. " John said. "Rodney and I...well, I guess most of the time it's only there when we want it bar a few odd times. Not sure I'd be able to deal with it being on all the time."

"You'd sink through floors," Rodney remarked. "I burnt out electronics for years before I worked it out. But ours is controllable."

"Well I did sink through a few when it came online," John remarked. He seemed to be waiting for something, a moment or something. "So, you know, we're all here and.... we said we'd..."

"John, are you volunteering to... talk?" Carson was a little incredulous at what he was sensing.

"Don't say no. It might not come up as an option again," Rodney whispered.

"Rodney..." John said in a warning tone. "Look, we've gotta talk about this... us, otherwise I'm going to be pretty light on sleep trying to guard you both."

"Guard? Why would you need... oh." Carson frowned. "You need to know we're okay at the least."

"And we are," Rodney offered. "Sitting right here, with bad TV on the wall."

Carson was listening to the subtext of emotions, which were fascinating. "We could sit here and painfully pick through feelings or I could just translate what I think is going on here?"

Rodney raised his eyebrows at them both. "No, go ahead."

"Well," Carson knew it was easiest to start with his own feelings which he hoped were all his. "I don't want to lose this closeness. It's more than just intimacy; I need and want you both. In all ways. I'll take what I can get." He hesitated a moment. "I don't feel any reservation on that front from anywhere though I can feel awareness of fear and concern."

"I'm not really sure where we're headed with this." John cleared his throat. "Long term, I mean."

"Personally I'm aiming for…" He smiled a little and gestured to the cake they had decimated. "Having my cake and eating it. I know there are concerns, and I think we can deal with it. Discretion for a start."

"It's not like we're going to look any weirder than we already do," Rodney offered. "I mean, I can serve as a walking, talking excuse for any weirdness we need to 'cover'."

"Or I can, " Carson replied. "It wouldn't be too much of a stretch to say I formed a connection with you both that means I have to stay close."

"Of they can write us all off as 'weirdos'." John's voice sounded almost... jaunty, and he made the air quotes to go with it. "Look, why don't we just... take things as they come up?"

"Because you need to know that we're working towards the same thing," Carson said. "A physical relationship. A real relationship."

"I'm not sure how three... how it would work." John rolled his shoulders slightly.

"We fit together," Carson murmured. "We balance each other, I love you, I love Rodney."

"Do we timeshare, how do we sneak around the security cameras, all of that, I think is what he's worried about."

"Actually, no, I meant it in the more general sense, but, uh." John sat up straighter. "Healthy sense of paranoia you've got, buddy."

"Okay, can I suggest life affirming sex now?" Carson said. "I've been dying to for ages."

"Or I could go rig the security cameras right now," Rodney offered, reaching for Carson's cake. "Isn't the bed a little small?"

"I uh..." John was tempted he could tell that much.

"We could use the couch...or the floor," he said with a smirk.

"Or we could just move to the floor and see what... what was it you said, take things as they come?" Rodney said that, and he could feel discomfort from John while Rodney said that.

"Are you sure? After everything that happened..."

"Well, I didn't get much of that, so I am more than willing to take any of the… trigger positions," Carson offered. "Call it therapy."

He meant the offer genuinely, but he still felt Rodney... something. Something he wasn't sure, and he wished that he could just handle his own emotions for the moment. "Okay. Seeing as everyone's already been given the 'we're busy' warning."

He was trying to narrow that down. John was nervy but this might settle him. He reached to touch Rodney's hand to try and clarify what that flicker was. He didn't want to force this through. "Rodney?"

"What's up?" John asked seeing the hesitation.

"Can we just be generally less emotionally attuned and blunder through this like normal people would?" It was almost a whine, and Rodney still had that frisson of something. "I'd like to try this."

"I'll back off," Carson promised. "Just... no one do anything they don't feel comfortable with?"

"I don't feel comfortable doing anything while Rodney's still wielding a fork like that. I don't want to have to explain an accidental puncture wound to Keller if it's got frosting in it." It was enough of a snark from John to make Rodney grin as he moved to get off of the bed.

"Har har. I'll put everything on Carson's desk, all right?"

"Put it there out of harm's way," Carson said. He was definitely picking up anticipation, or that could be him alone.

It was there in John, he was sure of it, and Rodney seemed... mellow, almost relaxed into the idea. Carson hoped that was a good sign. "So, are we moving to the floor?"

"Only if we're taking the bedding and cushions with us." Carson was sure that wasn't a problem. They had slept on earth and straw for a month. They could manage this.

"You never really think about pillows much until you don't have them." John moved to grab them, while Rodney shifted some of the accumulated junk off of the bed enough to pull the sheets off.

Between the three of them, it wasn't hard to make something comfortable on the floor, involving cushion from the couch, pillows and bedding. The film was still rumbling along in the background but Carson wasn't paying a lot of attention to that. He just settled himself on the makeshift pallet and John eased himself down as well. John seemed the most keyed up in some ways, so Carson moved over so Rodney could be next to him.

Rodney stretched out between them, and there was a thread of nervous anticipation, finally, if he hadn't been able to guess it from Rodney's smile. "So."

John looked and felt a little nervous himself. "So we ...uh..."

"Watch the movie a little and see what happens," Carson suggested.

Rodney stretched, arms up over his head for a moment, and then Carson could feel him sliding one arm over his shoulders, and the other no doubt over John's. "Well, if we're going to be high school awkward, I might as well carry it through."

Carson snorted a little bit. "Pretend we're at the cinema in the back row," he suggested.

"Cinema?" John looked at him quizzically.

"Movies then. The other side of the Atlantic goes to the cinema, you go to the movies." Carson knew by talking rubbish things were relaxing a little.

"I've seen American blockbusters. Calling them cinema really goes a little too far." Rodney wasn't pulling his arms away, and Carson peered over at John with a little movement. Rodney was rubbing at one shoulder, and John seemed to be shifting into it, getting comfortable.

That was good, his own comfort was linked to theirs, so it would be easier. He wanted to urge John just to try kissing Rodney but his power didn't have that ability. Well, not so far, otherwise they wouldn't have stayed captured all that time. He just laid back and let himself drift as John relaxed and finally made a move on Rodney.

Finally. He had a feeling that even when Rodney and John had been in rooms together they hadn't done much, if that. Just simple kissing, and Carson watched it with more interest than the movie.

It looked good, and it felt even better. He had a reputation for being a generous lover but the truth was, anything that made his partner feel good invariably reflected to him and it was entirely possible for him to come in sympathy without even being touched. He'd managed to get that under control a little; otherwise, there was a reason his 'getting lucky' kit had a cockring in it.

John was starting to lean into the kiss, fingers exploring a little, and Rodney liked that. Liked it when John was intense and when he leaned back and was tender. He leaned up, pulling away from Carson a little under John's attention, and Carson shifted with him, intent on feeling a little more than just echoes.

His hand reached to touch Rodney, feather light and hopeful, body moving in to get closer to him, the memories of his own kisses coming back to him. He could feel the effects of John's kiss as if he was receiving it and it made him want to experience it for real, but John was intent. Intent on feeling Rodney little by little.

He had a hand sliding up under Rodney's shirt along his side, and Carson decided, what the hell. Join in. Slow, carefully, fingers stroking Rodney's back, and Rodney didn't startle. That was good.

He would have to take it slow, feel for triggers. Rodney and John were good at compartmentalizing things but no one was that good.

But touching Rodney felt good and it was slow and easy. Easier than he had imagined. On the other hand, they had progressed through the discomfort of being naked with each other already, through normal layers of intimacy through the ordeal.

"Hold on," John murmured, pulling back from Rodney a little. "Lemme get this shirt off."

"Rodney's or your own?" Carson murmured kissing the back of Rodney's neck.

"Both sounds good to me," Rodney murmured, shifting to start pulling his own off. "It's not like we haven't been naked."

That was true enough and he helped Rodney slip it off. "Aye, plenty of that," he murmured, watching John get his shirt off and then following suit himself.

They still all had their pants on, but Carson was taking this as a sign of pacing more than possible triggering, and he watched Rodney throw his shirt in the general direction of the door.

"You okay?" John murmured, and there was a luminous quality to the way he was looking at them that Carson wasn't entirely sure was real and not a product of his mind.

"I'm okay," Carson reassured but didn't speak for Rodney. That could get old fast.

"Better than." Rodney lifted his eyebrows, looking at them both. "Though, if you expect me to tell you any fantasies I have right now they're pretty mundane."

"Mm. We can wait for that."

"You can tell me," John replied, getting closer again, much closer.

"When I said mundane," Rodney warned, leaning down to kiss John. "I meant creepily, creepily mundane, sleeping on top of the two of you mundane."

"I like the sound of that," John said. "I love the sound of that."

He really did like that, Carson could feel that. "Mundane is good," he added. "I like the feel of someone on top of me."

It was sort of funny, because he'd always expected Rodney to be more adventuresome than that. But both Rodney and John had the memories of much more 'adventuresome' sex, torture, and it seemed a way for them to avoid that. "And maybe a little more of this," Rodney added, turning his head to kiss Carson.

That could be for the future, the exotic and interesting. "Mmm." He kissed back and it was like magic. He was back in that warm toe-curling zone. He was probably making small whimpering noises as a result.

But it felt good. He could feel how much Rodney was enjoying it, sliding his tongue against the roof of Carson's mouth, faint pressure while he explored what Carson let him. He was willing to let him do anything, he really was and that seemed to show. John was giving Rodney the same sort of attention he had, moving down the body.

"Maybe we should just say to hell with clothes," Rodney murmured, letting a hand slide over Carson's chest.

"They aren't exactly necessary," Carson agreed, and then was surprised when John moved over to be position over them both.

"Here, let me take care of that." Rodney seemed surprised when John said that, but he shifted and lay back down in their impromptu nest.

"Okay, sure..."

It was very slow and easy, the slip of fabric tugged down over his legs and then John's hands smoothing up his legs and ass that made him twitch and press against Rodney.

"That feels good?" John asked, smirking a little while Rodney started to squirm out of his own pants, which were slightly more complicated for having not just been kicked out of the infirmary.

"Very good," Carson agreed. "I am more than willing to have any sort of attention."

"You'll get some," John replied, helping Rodney.

Rodney shifted, lifting his hips and shoving the waistband of his pants and his underwear down as one. "Just this feels good."

"You're both feeling very good," Carson replied rubbing against him.

"Mentally or literally?" Rodney lay back down, and then half-showily crossed his legs at the ankles. "It's just up to you, now, John."

"Both." Carson replied.

"So it's all up to me is it?" John asked looking them up and down. "Damn, what am I meant to be deciding?"

"When you plan on taking your pants off," Rodney deadpanned. "Or anything else."

"Oh, that I can decide," John smirked and stripped rapidly before he lay down again. "I need to know what you don't want."

Carson could understand that.

"When I said I've given this whole thing some thought I meant... everything but that. I'm not sure." Rodney cleared his throat a little even as he let one hand idle over John's stomach.

"I told you, I'm okay," Carson murmured. "Would either of you like a blowjob or..?"

John looked quizzically at Rodney.

"Oh, for god's sake. Yes. Yes, let's just -- I don't know what I don't want, so let's just find out the way normal people do before I decide to smother you both or something."

"Hey, I'm trying to be considerate and caring here," John murmured as he pressed down over them both. He gave Rodney a smirk and then shifted himself to sprawl over Carson and positioned himself near Rodney's cock. "You two entertain yourself up there."   
"Thank god. I'm going to chew Heightmeyer out for putting all of this think it through crap in our heads," Rodney sighed, turning towards Carson and sliding one arm around him even as he slid his other hand through John's hair.

It was easy to lean back into kissing Rodney, and he felt Rodney's reaction as John licked at him in a teasing fashion. It was almost like getting one himself. He lost himself in kissing, drifting happily in John and Carson's emotions.

It was nice and low key, and he could feel when Rodney started to move, trying to thrust up a little to John without moving too much.

He kissed him again and his fingers trailed over Rodney's skin looking for hotspots of reaction. When he found one he would pause and kiss that spots, teasing at it himself.

It wasn't just for the sensation of his lips against skin, the taste of Rodney -- clean, like he'd showered before slipping by Heightmeyer's that morning, before coming to get Carson and John -- the way his skin played over bone and muscle structure. It was for the feeling he felt when John reached down between his own legs to stroke himself off while he sucked on Rodney, it was for the feeling of Rodney's breath catching at all of that attention.

It wouldn't take much to make him come, and he was acutely aware that John was aching to come himself. And he was aching with the need for something more.

"John...if I move, you can.. fuck me if you want?"

He heard John laugh around his dick, and Rodney groaned a little. "If you do, I want to watch."

The logistics were a little tricky to figure, but Carson smiled and shifted downwards and managed to insinuate himself underneath John's body.

"Hold on, hold on." Rodney shifted, pushed at John a little, and pulled away from him. "I'm more than happy just to watch this."

"You want to?" John asked raising an eyebrow.

He actually did. "He really does, John," Carson pointed out. "How would you like me?"

Rodney scooted out from under then, but not away, and it gave them room to reposition a little. "Face to face like this is nice," John murmured. "If you're okay with it."

"I think I'm flexible enough," Carson replied, leaning back and leaning to look at Rodney as well. He smiled. Rodney liked to watch, who knew?

He wouldn't have really guessed it, but Rodney idly stroked at his dick while John kissed Carson for a moment. "Oh, wait -- you two, stay there. I'll find lube, and uh." Rodney gestured with his free hand, and started to stand up.

"Bathroom, the side drawer, " Carson murmured, looking up at John. Huh, this was the interesting dynamic, him and John. He was surprised to feel a genuine wash of emotion from him.

John felt pleased, relaxed as he looked down at Carson. "He's really okay with this?" John murmured, glancing towards the bathroom. Or possibly Rodney's ass in the bathroom doorway.

"He appears to get off on watching it," Carson replied noting how ridiculously good looking John was and he was touching him, going to have sex with him. "Make it a show for him, John."

"Huh." John lifted an eyebrow, and then leaned in to kiss Carson again, fingers sliding down to Carson's sides, his ass. "I think things just got easier, then. I kind of enjoy a show myself."

He was learning all sorts of things about John and Rodney tonight. "Mm, I can tell that you do. You know that if you're enjoying yourself, I will be as well," he said and raised his hips a little.

It was funny to watch the constantly shifting nature of John's smile. A quirk to one side and then the other and then the other, constantly moving. Like his hands when he slowly palmed Carson's dick. "Good to know."

God that felt good, that felt very good. There was nothing like it, nothing like feeling his own pleasure as well as someone else's.

He could almost wallow in it, and he was half aware when Rodney came back, knelt down beside them, and reached between them to start lubing up John's dick. "You two look so hot like this."

"You like to watch, Rodney. Do you like to do anything else?" Carson murmured, watching the slick substance covering his cock.

"Oh, I like to participate, too, but uh, I'm a little... After the knife, uh. Think I'm going to have to work back up to things." 'After the knife' could've covered a broad range of torture, and while the physical issues that would've been there were all healed, Carson could understand the reluctance. The last thing Rodney had been fucked with was a knife, and that was a screaming horror that Carson still remembered clear as day.

"That's okay," Carson reassured. He remembered the pain of it. He remembered screaming as he healed it let alone the state of Rodney when he came in. "Go ahead, John, It's been a while."

Rodney seemed more than happy to 'help', sliding slick fingers over Carson's asshole before John positioned himself. It wasn't just watching -- Rodney liked to watch and pet, idly stroking himself while he touched each of them in turn. John seemed pleased, radiating satisfaction when he nudged the head of his cock against Carson. "I'll go slow."

"Slow is good, " Carson answered, lining himself up with John. "Also sometimes a good fast fuck up against the wall has its appeal as well." There was a push into him and a burn all through his centre.

"We can do that later, too. You did just get released today." John's voice was a nice low growl, while he slowly pushed in. No pulling back out and then pushing in, no, a nice steady push.

That was enough to make him groan. Rodney liked the sound, liked the talking, liked and feared the idea of fast and hard. So he carried on talking. "Oh bloody hell, John... fuck, that feels large."

"If I say 'I know', I think Rodney's going to pass out laughing." Another smirk, and John held still finally, shifting just one of Carson's legs into an up on John's upper arm position, letting the other one stay down against John's hip. That felt good, didn't feel like he was being cracked in half.

Rodney exhaled hard, sitting beside them, a hand idling against Carson's hip. "Fuck."

"I think that is the general idea," Carson managed. "Ever tried sex while levitating, Rodney?" His voice wavered as John pushed deep and waited for him to adjust.

"Actually, no. I hadn't." But Carson could tell that now Rodney wanted to try it.

"Uhn, oh, Jesus you're tight, Carson. Hot and..." John shifted his hips, a tiny flex before he started to pull back.

Speechless after that twitch. It hit a good spot and he shuddered and groaned as the movement began. "God, yes, John. Move. I can take it."

He wanted to say he healed quick but that was the wrong tone for this. Sex floating, flying, John would love it. Was going to love it, because after a moment he could feel them both lifting off of the ground, with the focus point starting at where Rodney's hand was touching him.

"Yeah, I can feel that, I -- whoa."

That was a strange sensation, but Rodney was enjoying the sight, this new level of participation that was happening as they floated. They tilted a little, and gravity brought John deeper than ever into his ass.

"Holy..."

Rodney laughed a little, and pulled his hand back finally, clearly concentrating on levitating them. "You mentioned it first."

"This is…" Disorienting, but John seemed to realize that it wasn't quite like trying to fuck underwater, that there was resistance even if Rodney was supplying it, and that they weren't going to end up smacking into a wall when he pulled out and thrust again. He could sense the ripple of magnetism under him, twisting around his legs and arms as John thrust into him over and over, like some classical Greek god floating down to abduct a mortal.

It felt different when there was no pressure against his back but air pressure, no sensation but John in him, moving fast, faster, John's fingers around his dick.

There came a point where if he trusted whom he was with, he let himself go completely. He sank into the feeling, sharp intense pleasure from John, the stretch, burn and ecstasy of his own sensation, the growing arousal of Rodney. He could be like this forever, moving and moaning without inhibition.

Just riding on it, moving with John, encouraging him and soaking it up. He knew they weren't going to last long, because John was thrusting harder now, high on the sensation of weightlessness without the drawbacks, pulling Carson as close as he could and still thrust. "Almost, Jesus, you feel so..."

Debauched and well fucked sprang to mind, and in the process, he felt himself drop into the complete intimate rapport that was unique with Rodney and John. Every flex of muscle, every firing nerve touched him, and his sense unfurled to fill them with the delicious warmth that came with healing, but now was just for the pleasure of it.

No pain, just echoing and sharing in the pleasure of it, and John startled and came, overwhelmed by it mid-thrust, and even that echoed into what he was sharing. Rodney's magnetic field faltered, just a little.

It was drowned out by the physical and mental fireworks going on in his head. John was sated, he'd come explosively, but his balls still ached with Rodney's need. He tried to reach for him, pull him over for his turn.

Rodney slowly lowered them, back to the makeshift bed with care, and he was still stroking himself, close but not there. "That was, I can't believe I've never tried that before. Well, I can believe it, but you both looked amazing."

John grinned and collapsed to one side and Carson looked at him.

"Rodney... want to finish off? I can feel you. Here, I'm loose enough now." He was nearly begging for it.

It was a good feeling, and Rodney seemed almost reluctant even while he did move. "I, are you sure?"

"Next time is my turn," John sighed against Carson's shoulder. "That felt fantastic."

"Yes, I'm sure." Carson murmured. "Aye, John we'll do that...it was bloody amazing."

And just as amazing when Rodney hesitantly moved between Carson's legs, stroking a hand over Carson's stomach and softening dick. He slid lube over his own dick, hitching Carson's hips up with a little magnetism so he could position himself. "If I think that this is hot one more time, I'm going to start wondering if I've lost brain cells, because there are words missing."

"Expand your vocabulary." This was likely to be fast and intense and it was strange to feel erect and aroused at the same time as being sated, Interesting though. "I want some superlatives, love."

Rodney laughed, slowly pushing into Carson, exhaling. "Oh... Superlatives, huh. Slick, and tight and is beautiful clichéd right now? Because you're, huh, beautiful in a manly way, smiling and giving and this feels amazing."

It did rather feel amazing, Carson had to admit. He was stretched enough to feel comfortable with Rodney sliding into him and pushing deep.

Fuck. It was forcing him back to half hardness.

He probably wouldn't come again, and as it was, it felt aching to get half hard again, but the feeling of Rodney sinking into his ass, and just holding himself for a moment before he started to thrust. "Oh, yeah..."

Rodney had been scared he couldn't do this but that passed under the sensation of movement and penetration.

Damn, it felt good.

Just a good, easy rhythm, a little fast, faster, Rodney already close to coming. He was holding Carson's ass tipped up, fingers sliding over Carson's hips and stomach."

"That's it, Rodney," Carson murmured and smiled up at him, seeing the pleasure on his expression. "Harder… harder as you like."

Rodney exhaled in what felt like an unsteady whimper, and twisted his hips before taking a few, one two three, four, hard thrusts before he came.

He cried out even though he didn't come, it was Rodney's climax he was feeling, but that was all to the good. He could definitely see the upside of his gift at moments like this.

"That was... bloody fantastic."

Rodney stretched out on top of Carson, moving and reaching a hand for John, while John settled in beside them. "Nice superlative."

"Pretty good for me, too," John drawled. "I think that was pretty successful therapy."

"It's probably done us a power of good," Carson agreed.

"Mmm, I could go to sleep right now, except wet spots are hell." Rodney shifted, slowly pulling out of Carson. "Uhmf, let me get you a towel..."

Carson had been about to say don't get up when he realized that he didn't have to. There were perks to having Rodney as a lover.

It took concentration and it was lazy of Rodney, sure, but despite it burning off energy, Rodney seemed delighted that he could reach for things with his powers again, diamagnetic or not. Running the tap in Carson's bathroom was showing off, but Rodney was concentrating and gesturing as if he was conducting a symphony.

Then the washcloth, half wet, came floating into the room.

"Showoff," John sighed.

"But he does it so well," Carson commented. "I'm never letting either of you go. Ever." He exhaled and relaxed.

"Mmmm, I could go for that," Rodney sighed, reaching up with fingers for the washcloth to slide slowly between Carson's legs.

"You do that too much longer, then I'll be coming again," Carson complained.

He felt the washcloth delve a little deeper than just the outside of Carson's asshole. "Yeah, well. Just trying to make you comfortable."

"I'm very comfortable thank you," Carson found himself genuinely snuggling in towards John and that felt natural, and with the weight of Rodney on him that felt good as well.

Rodney shifted off of him a little, but only just a little. "Is anyone watching the movie?"

"Only if Die Hard had a lot more of the gay sex in it than I remember."

"It's the director's cut," John mumbled with a smirk.

"I liked my view a lot better." Rodney disconnected the DVD and projector with a couple of good gestures, and it sank the room into darkness. "Uh, I hope that was all right."

"More than. I might actually sleep now," John said. "Now I know where you are."

"We'll always be here, John. " Carson patted him gently.

"As long as I have a choice," Rodney agreed, and Carson guessed that Rodney reached a hand over to pat John sleepily.

As far as Carson was concerned, they would always make sure that they had that choice. Between the three of them he was pretty sure there was nothing they couldn't tackle if they were prepared.

* * *

John had taken him aside for a good, oh, three, four hours, trying to impart all of the information he had on the layout of the base, the planet, the people, as if that would prevent Lorne from coming across any of the dangers that the three of them had faced. But the problem needed to be neutralized, starting with the people who'd hired Kolya and then moving to the hunt for Kolya.

He had a good team, they were ready and he knew that John wanted to be there. He also knew that Dr. Weir had point blank forbidden him. That was probably a good thing considering that Dr. McKay could total the place, and his CO was some sort of black ops ninja.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate them, in a team-setting, but they were full out prepared to deal with John and Rodney and not with guys armed to the teeth with Earth-style weapons and no discernable powers at all. Teyla's mindreading was a fantastic heads up for them while they stepped through the gate.

"Hendricks, on the six."

The marine moved, and they fanned out, heading towards the facility. He remembered seeing John, Rodney and Carson appeared out of nowhere coming up that hill, McKay with a shield and Dr. Beckett looking like he was being drained moment by moment. Nothing as bad as seeing them all drop in the gateroom when they got back, seeing blood bloom out of nowhere on Carson. He'd seen what Kolya had done on behalf of his employers and it had not just been interrogation, but sadism.

Just part of it, and he wasn't sure what else had happened, but he was sure that it had been worse than the state they'd come back in. They needed to talk to those people -- ostentatiously, that was the reason they were there, that was why Weir had approved the mission. But she also knew how he'd handle things when they went badly.

"Teyla, you getting anything?"

"There are people there but their thoughts are most strange," Teyla said sounding confused. "They do not feel like they did before. Perhaps these are other people?"

"What're you getting?" He wanted, no, he needed to know. Did they regret it? Was there some kind of internal coup going on?

"A great deal of fearful thoughts and images, as if there are hallucinations of monsters," Teyla replied frowning. "We should be careful Major."

"All right. Everyone in tight -- I want three of you guarding the gate so we can make a quick get away." Lorne gestured at Hendricks, and then Stubbins and Phelps.

The marines efficiently positioned themselves and Lorne led the approach to the facility in careful stages. No guards. He rested his hand on the door as his team reported in, and then flinched as a sharp vision hit him filling his mind with distorted images which he shook off.

"You have seen it too?" Teyla asked looking at him.

"Yeah, something's not right," Lorne murmured, stepping towards the doors that led into their hill-set bunker of a facility. They probably could've found the hole where Sheppard, Rodney and Carson had burst through, but it wasn't structurally sound.

He pushed open the doorway and they went in using a standard recon formation. They were after Kolya specifically, either to extradite to the Genii or to do whatever else

Personally, Lorne wanted to take him off to a corner and just blow his brains out, after which he'd take a little souvenir for his CO. "Is any of it getting clearer, Teyla?" He was keeping point, stopping them while he searched around a corner.

"The images are still most strange," Teyla said sounding concerned.

Ronon padded out ahead, silent and taking point without telling Lorne.

"Ronon says he hears something," Teyla said before he could interrupt. Ronon had taken to the idea of silently thinking messages to Teyla as a tactical advantage rather well.

"These are their thoughts you're hearing that seem so strange?" That was new for Lorne, and he edged in closer, trying to keep Ronon's back in his sight line.

"Yes," Teyla nodded. "They seem like incoherent combinations of Wraith thought and human. Some seem to be pleading for help."

"Wraith thought?" Lorne started forwards, rushing, hearing Ronon fire off what he hoped were stun rounds because if they were all dead...

"Not actual Wraith," Teyla said even as they all moved, finding Ronon firing at a shape moving like blur.

Then she gasped. "Wait Ronon! Stop! I...recognize that one. He is a Genii...."

He didn't look much like Genii, not then.

He was moving like Samantha Carter if someone hit her with an electric shock, all wrong, all blurred, and when he stopped with the stun shot, he fell to the ground as a stunned... creature. His bones were out of shape, his skin liquid-looking.

"He's Genii. Is he the one we're looking for?"

"Not Kolya, but one who was with Kolya," Teyla frowned a little.

"What happened to him?" Ronon asked.

"We thought Dr. Beckett was lying," another more familiar voice said from the shadows. "Shem thought he could do what Beckett could not. We took a treatment."

Kolya stepped forward, more humanoid than the others, but his complexion pallid and white like a Wraith, his eyes changed.

Lorne lifted his gun up, just enough to let Kolya know that he wasn't going to trust him because he looked like hell. "You shouldn't have. Beckett was a trained scientist, and he'd stop short of anything that would risk your lives. What the hell happened here?" If they were all like that, pallid, white, deformed with freakish reactions to their injections... The worst thing Lorne had seen so far in the expedition was the odd person who could turn their eyes and hair colors.

"Genetic flux," Kolya said. "We got our powers, but they are not stable. " He tapped is eyes. "I can see into different spectrums of light. Sometimes through things but my physical state is...in flux."

"How many of you are left?" This wasn't what he was prepared to deal with. He was prepared to go down there, doing some shooting, call it a day. This was...

"Twenty-three of us have survived," Kolya replied. "Though Shem now believes that is unlikely to remain the case."

Twenty-three, some of whom were stunned. "No, probably not. You have a way of summoning the rest of you here? We can get you out of here, see if our doctors can do anything for you."

Kolya looked at him. "Why would you do that? Considering what we have done to your commanding officer, Dr. McKay and Dr. Beckett. Forgive me for not believing your intentions."

Lorne glanced over to Teyla, and then back to Kolya. "It's what we do. Call it an old tradition back where we come from. We capture someone, we treat their wounds, and then figure out what to do with them after the fact. Now, if you prefer that we escort you back to the Genii homeworld and just visit you all there to look into treating you, that's fine by us."

Kolya looked suspicious.

"Acastus," Teyla said suddenly. "You wish to avenge those taken from you by the Wraith. You will die and lose that opportunity if you do not take our aid. Colonel Sheppard may hate you, but he is a strong enough leader to put personal enmity aside for a common goal."

"We're going to raze this facility -- with or without all of you in it. Hopefully, without," Lorne offered. "Now, you can come with us peacefully and we can try to get your, whatever the hell Shem did to you all fixed, or... it looks like you're all going to die."

Kolya really didn't have much of a choice, Lorne could tell that.

"Agreed, if you can guarantee Colonel Sheppard does not kill me or my men."

"Done." Logically, Sheppard probably wouldn't. And if he did, he'd only kill Kolya, not his men. Lorne wasn't going to get himself bent out of shape over it. "Let's round you up and head to the gate."

From the looks that Teyla was giving Ronon, the Satedan was not happy. Well they wouldn't be taking them to Atlantis immediately. There were a couple of convenient alpha sites they had developed.

"We need what we can salvage from their labs," Teyla reminded him. "Dr. Beckett asked that we bring what we could, if possible."

"Right. I want you, and the men at the gate to get these through. Ronon and I are going to hit the labs and strip the place. Send back another team if they can be spared."

"Yes, Major." Teyla nodded and headed off with a group of men. Lorne knew he could trust her not to miss anyone.

"C4?" Ronon said. He'd certainly picked up that swiftly.

"Yeah. Once we've got their research."

It was easy to lead Ronon down into place, scanning room, kicking them open. There were a lot of corpses, and Lorne started to figure out that while the facility wasn't Genii, it might've been one of the planets that had been in a federation with them because they certainly had a sprawling underground civilization going on.

The place needed to go up, because it was going to be seething with disease soon. They had paid a price for what they did to the Lanteans, and he just hoped it wouldn't hurt them thinking they were responsible for their captors terminal stupidity. If they'd all taken this treatment... this was worse than the Hoffans.

Lorne was ready to guess off hand that there was a ninety percent plus mortality rate, maybe more. From the looks of it, no one died a peaceful death, not even a coughing up blood death. This looked like something Nerti would've done back in the home Galaxy, horrible and flawed.

They found what he supposed were passing for hard drives, and Lorne started to load up his backpack with them, notes and then samples that were already contained in glass. Anything he could get that could help Dr. Beckett.

Ronon was taking pretty much everything, including some items that he would never have recognized as data devices.

"Vircenzian data matrix," he said, not missing the glance. "They'll have a reader here. Got anything on those implant things?"

"I have no idea. Grab the reader, it'll save us time." He started to take everything, everything he could fit that wasn't even obvious. "Damn shame to blow this place up, but."

"You do it for Sheppard," Ronon agreed. "Though he'd probably want Kolya dead." It was half a question, half a suggestion.

"Hey, if he happens to get into the cells and does it himself..." Lorne rolled his shoulders, and tried to fit things into the bag better. "No skin off of my nose, you know?"

"You think he would?" Ronon asked looking back at him

"He might. He might not. He's a pretty honorable guy, good leader." Lorne looked around the lab. "Anything else you recognize?"

"Rest is junk," Ronon said. "Anything worth having would be here." He gestured with the matrix. "Let's blow this place."

He'd taken some sealed boxes, so hopefully they might yield information, but other than that... "Right. Let's lay charges and get out near the gate before we blow it."

It was a matter of minutes before they were ready and the place was clear as the made it back up the claustrophobic corridors. He recognized them from his visions. He recognized the testing labs where they had been bleeding out their lives until Carson could get to them. He didn't understand how anyone could purposefully hurt the doctor. Carson was a good guy. He could see the point of roughing up Sheppard and McKay, but not Beckett. As far as Lorne knew of him, he was just a mellow, easy to get along with genius.

All he did was save people. Heal them.

"Everyone clear?" Lorne asked.

"No one here," Ronon said. "Detonate."

It was just a thumb switch, a quick thing that sparked the timer, and he counted mentally in his head until it was going to go up. McKay would've appreciated the view.

It was an impressive explosion, pretty satisfying in one way, but he was already thinking ahead. Somehow he was going to have to explain to his CO why he had taken it on himself to save the man who had nearly killed them.

* * *

  
He was in hell.

Of course, it wasn't his decision, it was a command decision, but he was pretty sure it wasn't his sort of command and Kolya was alive and in their city, albeit restrained in a makeshift ward that was being set up in the holding cells.

He'd been with Carson when they'd come through the gate and even though they hadn't been anywhere near them, the empath had known immediately and practically clutched hold of him. He didn't need Carson's skills to know how John felt either.

It was obvious, and Rodney wanted to know why, and just how and what the fuck Carson was supposed to be doing about it, because Keller had made faces, apparently, and then paged Carson.

Carson had been down there a while and in the end it was bugging him more than he thought that he didn't know how he'd been getting on. And the fact Kolya was in Atlantis, no matter the circumstances. He didn't want John losing it, either. Rodney decided that it was time to go downstairs and see what he could do, what use he could or couldn't be, just for Carson and Sheppard, because it wasn't really a science issue so much as a medical and security issue.

So much for supposedly getting a full month to put themselves back together.

They were doing better than Kate had expected, even if John was trying her patience and Carson was frustrating in completely different way. She commented if he was any more self aware he'd be Buddha or something. Well, and yes, he was... he was Carson. He was aware of things that interested him, and his own mental state and those of his friends were pretty important.

But there was doing better and then there was stepping out of the transporter to head into the infirmary to try to find Carson.

He heard Carson before he saw him, his voice carrying a tinge of hysteria. "I'm not bloody well taking the blame for this one. I told them it didn't work and wouldn't!"

"I didn't say that, Carson." That was Keller sounding worried. "I said as it was your original research you stood the best chance of unraveling the answer."

"He tortured us! Now I'm responsible for fixing him?"

Which was Rodney's thought on the whole thing. He understood what Lorne was thinking, but hopefully John was rubbing out that whole 'thinking' issue out of Lorne. Rodney lurked in closer.

"You don't have to," Keller said. "You could just walk away."

"Like I can do that," Carson sounded defeated.

"Carson." Rodney cleared his throat, waving slightly. "Hi. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You can tell them I'm not to blame for... for them... doing this!" Carson exclaimed, turning to him.

"It's not Carson's fault," Rodney iterated. "They blew themselves up, genetically. We shouldn't have to clean that up."

"Doctor McKay, I know... Given what happened to you, but they're still human beings with a genetic issue that I have no grasp of how to handle--"

"No, I'm not inclined to see them as human," Rodney snapped. "Whether or not they look like extras in a horror movie."

"Look, I'm not trying to blame anyone," Keller said again. "But we don't ignore people in pain!"

Carson looked at her. "Don't you ever talk to me about ignoring people in pain, Jennifer! You have no bloody idea what you're asking me to do!"

Rodney rubbed at his face. "Look, this is, this is a bad idea. You're asking him to try to treat people who spent weeks beating him and ripping Sheppard and I to pieces. Look, you're a doctor and you are a geneticist, so I think it's time for you to step up to bat in this expedition, Keller."

"Look..." Keller looked down. "Look, I'm good, Carson, but much as it pains me to admit it, I could never have worked up the ATA therapy."

"Yes, fine, but you have Carson's research and the wonders of Atlantis with a ZPM, so try," Rodney snapped. "It doesn't fall on Carson's shoulders to fix our torturers."

Carson was looking her. "Wait... wait..." he frowned. "You mean that. You really believe you can't save them? You're not even sure I can, either."

"Please, Carson," Keller asked again. "I know we shouldn't ask this of you, but... these are the only survivors and they're not getting any better."

"So? I don't care if Kolya looks like a god-damned Wraith before he dies!" Rodney snapped.

Carson was looking torn and sat down a moment. "I don't want to do this, but... if I don't he's still got the power to control me," he said after a pause. "I would be doing it for anyone else. I shouldn't let fear force me."

"I could just make the problem go away." John called that from where he had apparently walked through the wall.

At least he wasn't the only one they could accuse of malicious lurking. Keller looked like her hair was going to start standing on end at any moment. "I could, too. Look, is there anything we can do to help?" Either way.

"You're not going down there and absorbing genetic instabilities," Rodney countered, still not moving yet.

"I don't intend to, but it's likely to be uncomfortable either way," Carson said. "I need to know I can do this. So do you two."

"Someone give me John's gun," Rodney murmured, moving to help himself to the painkiller. "This is what happens when we all go to see Heightmeyer."

John handed it over. "I still have a stick," he drawled.

Carson smiled a little. "Maybe we should ask for the stick and let you keep the gun."

"Then he'll still have his hands." Rodney came back, holding out in offer the pills in a little foil packet. "Let's go."

Carson popped them out and slipped them in his mouth and nodded. "Okay then. Facing fears and all that," he said, leading the way towards their secure lab.

"How is this facing fears?" Rodney sighed as he followed, nodding to John. He was holding John's gun awkwardly, more for the show that Sheppard was unarmed than anything else.

"Facing him."

"It's not facing him that's the problem," John added. "It's the whole not killing him thing. That was the reason I let Lorne go do this mission."

They started towards the transporter, and Rodney could already feel himself tensing up. He wasn't going to face anything; he was going to support Carson. "I had no interest in going underground."

"I'm a doctor, I can't let him stop me doing what I should be doing," Carson clarified in what Rodney recognized to be his immovably stubborn tone of voice.

"Slightest sign of danger, I'm killing him," John said. "And letting Rodney squish him."

"The walls of the cell could accidentally collapse," Rodney agreed as he stepped into the transporter.

"Happens all the time." John smirked tensely as they all piled in the transporter, and Carson punched it as they blurred into the right level just off the lab.

"Hey, you can't say that we haven't had previously functioning systems collapse on us before," Rodney said when the transporter stopped to let them off.

"Here we go." Carson took a deep breath and with that he let himself into the secure area.

Seeing Kolya was more disturbing than he thought, for different reasons.

He was weakened; there was no question, pale skinned and fish-like, with eyes that looked strange. He was standing up, though, and that was more than most of the other 'prisoners' seemed capable of doing.

"Kolya." Carson's voice sounded solid and uncompromising. "I've come to examine you. I want your assurance that that you will not attempt anything like taking me hostage that will force John and Rodney to ...stop you."

"I can assure you that I will not." Of course, the man was an inveterate liar, but Carson still needed to try.

Carson would at least have a sense of whether he was genuine. "What did they do?" he asked as he entered the cell. "Sit down, I will examine you."

Kolya was looking confused, and Rodney realized they never had figured out that it had been Carson. Good. Good that they'd never realized and he hoped they still didn't realize, because he wanted to keep Carson safe, as much as he could.

"Shem, who did not survive contact with another now dead experimentee, injected each of us with what he swore was a treatment you had not been able to concoct."

"The man was an idiot. I told him it wasn't possible to make a stable version. The retrovirus mutated within four divisions. That's a ridiculously unstable sample. Even if he pushed it to ten, that wouldn't work." Carson frowned a little as he used one of the medical scanners. "I take it the flux occurred after a few days?"

"A week, actually." Kolya was holding still, and he wasn't watching Carson, he was watching John. Rodney was glad that he wasn't the one being watched.

"I'll give him credit for getting that far," Carson said. "You're a bit of a mess Kolya. The retrovirus off switch is not working so it keeps trying to shift your DNA regardless of the presence of the dormant 3.0 gene sequence."

He stepped closer, reaching out with a hand towards Kolya.

The other prisoners were watching with interest, and Rodney and John edged in closer, too. "What're you doing, Doctor?"

"Carson..."

"I have to see, Colonel, I need to see the faulty code," Carson said and touched Kolya.

Rodney hadn't expected him and John to get shoulder to shoulder in the cell door with nearly matching motions.

They watched Kolya go still, go still and stay still, and Rodney itched to pull Carson back.

He was going deep and Rodney didn't have much opportunity to observe Carson healing -- he'd either been tired, or sleepy from his own healing.

Kolya closed his eyes, the lines on his face relaxing.

He looked like he was deep in bliss, and it made Rodney want to stick a metal bar through his head to counteract that, except Carson would've been compelled to fix that, too.

"What the hell is he doing?" John hissed at him. "Seriously, I thought he was scared witless of Kolya."

"He is," Rodney murmured. And so was Rodney, and maybe so was John. Not scared, but not interested in getting that close to Kolya.

"Then why the five-star treatment for him?" John sounded almost jealous.

"Carson. Hey, we don't want you going out on a limb for this bastard," Rodney spoke up, louder than John's jealous-tinted whisper.

He was deep enough not to hear immediately. "I'm not," he said a little slow and dreamily. "I've nearly there. Located the virus. There it is, you wee bugger."

He was doing it at the genetic, cellular level. Rodney stepped into the cell, still wary as he watched Kolya just sitting there. "Okay." Good, great, and as soon as he stepped back, Rodney was going to grab him.

He never realized that Carson did sometimes appear to have the glow of light in his hands, which made him think of what Carson had told him about Keller being worried that they would spontaneously ascend, but eventually he could see perspiration on Carson's forehead just before he broke off and exhaled. "Got it."

"Good, great, can we get out of here?" Rodney reached for him, moving to get him away from Kolya.

"Rodney, I'm fine. Acastus has had a bit of a change of heart from the feel of things." He leaned over to murmur, "I think healing is some sort of big deal, not self-healing. A gift of the Ancients, which it is in a way."

"No, it is." Rodney still wrapped a hand around Carson's arm. "I'll do whatever needs to be done to your computers to get this done faster."

"I know the key sequence, I've changed it in Kolya here, and given a few hours, I can take samples from him," Carson said patiently. "This will stop the genetic flux. Repairing the damage will be... very difficult."

"But they're not going to get worse now that you can take samples from Kolya? Are you all right?" He was guiding Carson backwards, and Keller could go draw blood off of the proverbial stone.

"Yes, Rodney. John, stop that, he didn't do anything," Carson cautioned. "The irony is, I couldn't have done that a few weeks ago. It would've been beyond my capability."

"Don't even think about it, Kolya," John warned in a low tone as the Genii stepped forward towards him.

"You did this. You... You healed them," Kolya guessed, stopping, not moving any closer.

"Aye, I did," Carson replied. "We three... we're natural Human versions 3.0, as we are called. Everything you did to them, Kolya, I felt."

"No tinkering required, just born this way. Tinkering apparently doesn't work, according to what Shem did." Did, didn't do. Rodney lifted his chin, and glanced at John. "I'm going to up the force field strength in here.

"He's not wanting to try anything ...yet," Carson reassured.

"He most likely will, though."

"It's the rest of them I worry about," Rodney offered. "All of them."

"They won't do anything until there's a cure for them." Carson seemed certain. "Now there might be hope in sight."

"Yeah, well, you're out of there now. You've done your bit, Carson."

From stability, the next step would be trying to wind back the damage, but if they could freeze the progression, Rodney understood that the next step was easier. "Right. Let's go, then."

They left the lab area, and Carson exhaled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry."

"Are you hurting?" Mostly he was afraid that Carson might have absorbed any of that genetic abnormality into himself.

"It feels... wrong. Many of them are in pain, but I'm not in pain now," Carson assured him. "And I know you're worried. It was something I had to do."

"I don't like you taking risks, Carson. Or you, Rodney."

"Where in there was I taking a risk?" Rodney demanded, turning around while they nodded to the marines guarding the 'prisoners'.

"You stepped forward. How am I supposed to protect you both if you keep jumping into the lion's den covered in barbecue sauce!"

Carson stared at him. "What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"What kind of metaphor was that?" Rodney was glad that the hallway down there was empty, and that the marines down that way, well, they were probably already well experienced in the oddness of Atlantis.

"I'm meant to protect you," John emphasized, and some of that wired look was back in his eyes. "But Carson insists on going in with people who tortured us like some goddamn saint, you try rushing in to save him..."

"Yes, well..." Rodney hit the button on the transporter a little harder than he needed to. "So? Kolya's turned into a fish-man."

"Well not exactly. You know the sad thing is?" Carson asked. "I believe this is the sort of thing that brought the Wraith into being."

"They're going to turn into Wraith?" John asked alarmed.

"No, no. This sort of tinkering with the human genome."

"The first attempt to advance humans?" It caught Rodney's attention, but then they were coming out of the transporter at the new level. "Huh."

"I believe so. Trying to splice in telepathic abilities, self-healing, strength and so on," Carson explained even as John grimaced.

"Any of this lot likely to go that way?" he asked. "I need to know."

"Not at the moment, John," Carson answered. "You know, I actually feel better for doing that."

"How?" Rodney had no sense of satisfaction at all, but that wasn't his thing. He'd make sure the cells had enough power when he got to a console. This was... not his.

"I don't feel so scared," Carson admitted. "I was before. I thought I'd throw up as soon as look at him, but they really do seem amazed by the healing. Personally I think your abilities are more impressive. Also, with the data I got from their lab, I will definitely be able to grow a control organism."

"Good. Great." Rodney looked sideways at John, glad that at least Carson seemed comfortable and settled by the idea of having confronted them.

"I still want to get rid of him," John muttered under his breath.

"No, you want to protect us," Carson corrected. "And Rodney is very capable of protecting himself. I have a few tricks up my sleeve now that I'm working on. I don't ever want to be caught like that again."

"None of us do." Rodney rubbed at his face. "I'm glad it's up to you and Weir what to do with them, John."

"Yeah, well, Elizabeth is thinking about extraditing them to the Genii if you manage to stabilize them," John replied. "But they might have powers so..."

"We'll be returning them a few 'supersoldiers'," Rodney pointed out.

"That's exactly my point. Not too keen on that as a strategy."

"We'll figure it out." Rodney shrugged his shoulders. Hell, they could implant them with inhibitors. He wasn't going to say that aloud yet, though.

"Right now though, I think I've done enough melodrama today," Carson said. "I was probably a wee bit harsh with Jennifer."

"No, she..." Rodney rolled his shoulders, and they were slowing down as they headed back towards the infirmary. "She needs to start thinking about the bigger picture."

"Look, people have a tendency to look as us as the sum of our abilities," John said. "I've spent years not having a name other than Ghost, Phantom, Specter to the military. I'm not even a guy to them. I'm a power that can get in and out of somewhere and make people appear or disappear. That needs to change."

"Even if we can't change it in the military at large, we should expect better here in Atlantis and from the SGC in general. Keller doesn't have to have powers -- Doctor Frasier never did. Just because you do doesn't invalidate what she can do." And right now, that seemed like it was mostly to tell Carson she couldn't do it, in which case she should've been Earthside so someone who could do it was on Atlantis.

"Aye, you're right," Carson agreed. "It took me a long time to realize I didn't have to personally heal everything." He looked at Rodney. "If I create a personal inhibitor that can be controlled by a unique control mechanism, would you object?"

Yes and no, so Rodney answered as neutrally as he could. "I want to help you with the mechanisms."

"Self-controlled is one thing, having a control that could maybe end up in the hands of someone else is not so good."

"There is a possible genetic lock activation," Carson said. "Ironically, creating a unique one is easier than one that will apply to multiple individuals."

"If I know how it works because I took part in building it, I can un-build it." Even if it was in his head. As long as he saw it once and understood the principles...

"That I can live with though it's full of squishy organic voodoo, Rodney," Carson warned, smiling a little. "Truth is we'll all feel a little more secure if I could do that."

"All right." John seemed to peer at the both of them. "Then I'm going to let you two get to it while I talk to Elizabeth about this development."

"Okay," Carson replied. "See you later for another movie?"

It caught him off guard a little, and John checked his watch. "Yeah, uh... 1700?"

"I'll radio you if we're going to be late," Rodney promised. By 1700, he was going to drag Carson away from it before Heightmeyer got wind of it and decided that they needed sessions to discuss what had happened.

"Sounds good. Elizabeth and I need a long talk. Later." He smiled and walked away.

Carson waited until he was out of the way and then exhaled. "He worries me, Rodney."

"I know. I don't know what to do, though, and unless you have any suggestions, can we can get to your lab and start work, and try to figure something out this evening?"

"Yes, you know out of all of us, I think you are perhaps the most... robust when it comes to this?" Carson patted him gently.

"Robust?" Rodney moved to lead the way back into the infirmary, before he gave up and sat down on the flood.

"Honestly, you knock most of the marines out of the water with regard to dealing with trauma," Carson replied sincerely.

He folded his arms over his chest and snorted. "My ego is soothed, Carson, but you don't have to say that. I'm sure twenty years from now I'll have a complete breakdown somewhere, but. We don't have the luxury for that out here, and there's no reason not to feel angry and frustrated and then move on. I'm not going to lie and say that I'm comfortable having Kolya down there -- I'm not. I'd like to put a metal bar through his head, I'd like to make him feel half as much pain as we did."

"For a brief moment, I did as well. " Carson paused. "I could've done that to him. I realized that, I could've made him feel bad as easily as made him feel good. But what would that do? Make me feel it all over again?"

"I don't know. Maybe it would." Rodney rolled his shoulders as they entered the lab, and he tried not to stare down Keller while they passed her.

"I haven't tried hurting anyone before and I don't think I want to, " Carson replied. "But I kept thinking; if I'd been able to, maybe I could just... I could've gotten us out of there?"

"It's not you." Rodney got ahead of Carson, pushing a hand at the crystals that opened the door to Carson's office. "You don't hurt people."

"No," Carson murmured as they entered and he closed the door. "John is still all twisted up. He's some better, but he is aware he's not right. He's very possessive and protective of us."

"You didn't realize that when he killed all of those Genii trying to get through the gate?" He stayed near the wall, letting Carson sit down and log himself in.

"Yes, but this is different, Rodney. Seriously, he loves us, and he believes no one loves him back, not in the same way," Carson said.

"Oh." Hell. Rodney leaned a hip against the edge of the desk. "Okay, I guess I know what we're going to work on tonight, then."

"Yeah, you think on that, while I pull up the data," Carson replied.

* * *

1700\. John made a conscious decision to move and find Carson and Rodney. He needed to do something to stop his mind from constantly sounding the alarms of danger by knowing Kolya was here. He'd been giving Teyla a headache apparently until she told him that he was letting his fear win.

He wasn't afraid.

He wasn't afraid; he was prepared. It was what he did. He anticipated a danger, sized it up, and neutralized the danger. Here he'd anticipated the danger, sized it up, and wasn't allowed to neutralize it.

It drove him crazy, enough to have him pacing at his session with Kate, itching to do something. Carson and Rodney were in danger, so was Atlantis, but he found the first more difficult to deal with.

Being captured and tortured had shaken him, he knew that. He wasn't completely oblivious. He knew he wasn't at his most stable, but Kolya was in the City, and he had the ability to see things, and what else? What else? There was no way that they had full knowledge of what the man was capable of, never mind the rest of the 'survivors'. But it was 1700, so he was going to check Carson's room first and see if they were there. There'd been no radio contact with Rodney, so he had to guess that their 'meeting' was on.

He hoped that it meant what he thought it meant. He needed to relax a little and he had after their first time together. Then there had been fooling around in the morning, and, well, exploration was proving fun. Just physical contact felt good, made his body sing and relax, and he wanted more of that. He wanted to feel like he could let go, even if he knew that what he had going on wasn't going to last.

He even went as far as knocking on the door to sound the chime inside.

Make the most of what came to him; that was all he could ask for. When the near death feelings faded away he'd be back to square one but... if he was a little selfish now, maybe he was entitled.

"Come in, John," he heard Carson call as the door swished open. "We're in here."

"I have food already here," Rodney said from his position on the floor already. It was nice that they'd just plain old given up on the bed, and John suspected that Rodney had dragged his own pillows up to add to it. "How was the talk with Elizabeth?"

"Long," John answered undoing his shoes so he could get into the comfort zone. "Somewhat inconclusive. She wants to see where we are after a cure."

"If anyone survives, she means. She doesn't have any more of an idea what to do than we do." Rodney gestured for John to sit down, and looked over at Carson.

Carson looked a little tired, John could see that, but not as traumatized as he could've been. Perhaps he didn't need him to protect him after all.

"John," Carson spoke softly. "Sit down."

"You look like you need the rest. You look, actually, like all you need is your P-90 in your hands." Rodney gestured at him, offering a sandwich on a plate.

"I'm not stressed," he said in as calm a voice as he could manage. "I'm fine." He took the sandwich, conscious of the fact he apparently wasn't fooling anyone.

"Liar," Carson said good-naturedly as he ate his own. "You know, in a lot of ways, I'm the best off here. I don't have any doubts about the way you all feel."

"I'm fine," Rodney offered, and glanced at Carson. "Which I am."

"I know that. We've said this before," John replied. "What's the point?"

"The point is this time I'm talking about the fact that I love Rodney, I love you, and Rodney loves the both of us. And you love us."

Carson seemed so calm when he said it, and Rodney was smiling. "Really. Sit down -- you're not allowed to run for the door."

He shook his head. "You just think you do. That happens in life or death situations." It had happened with O'Neill. It had felt real to him.

"John, this predates the last trauma."

Sure, yeah. Carson was just saying that, and John had no idea how to handle that information. And Rodney was looking at him. "Really. Because it's completely normal for two guys to bunk together for really no reason."

"Look. I didn't move on Rodney, because I knew you two had feelings for each other," Carson pointed out. "Even if you were both being repressed idiots about it."

"Scared of hitting on the mostly straight man," Rodney blurted, "and possibly ruining a perfectly good, touchy feely relationship by saying something."

"Touchy feely?" John wasn't sure if he was offended or not. "I am not touchy feely and I'm only partially straight. Slightly... curvy."

"Hmm. Well it was painful to watch," Carson commented.

"You can sit down, or I'm eating your sandwich," Rodney prompted, and seeing as he didn't have a sandwich himself, John was going to assume that he'd already done away with his own. "What was painful to watch?"

"You two!" Carson gestured to them both with the remains of his sandwich. "Tiptoeing around each other. You know most of the expedition assumes you're already together."

"I'm just that magnetic." It was Rodney's best deadpan while John finally sat down and started to take his boots off.

"Yes, you are," Carson teased a little. "So, John what is it going to take to convince you we're not suffering trauma induced delusions?"

"I..." He pulled at the laces of his left boot. "It's not that I'm not grateful for this. But I just watched the two of you put yourselves into danger..."

"And we watch you do that every day," Carson pointed out. "It's not a competition, John. You'd probably win."

"I'm pretty against getting myself killed, personally. You should know that my sense of self-preservation is generally unshakable."

John had to agree that they were probably right about that. "Look, things happen under extreme circumstances. People get attached and sometimes it's difficult to get out of that when you realize it was a mistake."

Great, now it sounded like he wanted out.

"Do you? Is that what you're saying?" Rodney sounded vaguely taken aback, like he was trying to re-evaluate what to say next.

Carson half slapped at John. "Oh for god's sake, John. No, Rodney, he's trying to give us an out because obviously we're going to come to our senses any moment now."

"Hey, it's a possibility. It's a funny coincidence that all of this finally comes to a head now, is all I'm saying." He got his other boot off, and stretched his feet out before he reached to start eating.

"Yes, spending all of that time naked together had nothing to do with it," Rodney scoffed.

"Or the fact that we got to know each other a lot better," Carson pointed out.

John couldn't argue with that. When they were left alone, and Carson had finished healing them, they'd banter back and forth.

"In a non-stress, non work related situation. Not ideal, but... Well, actually as far from ideal as possible, but." Rodney shrugged his shoulder, and stretched back on their shared 'bed'. "There's always been a lot we didn't know about each other."

"Some of us still keep a lot of secrets, John," Carson pointed out. "You quite rightly told me off for not telling people about various aspects of my ability, but you are even more close mouthed."

"I don't know what there is to say. I can put sticks into people's heads." John shrugged, and Rodney was shaking his head.

"So? So, you can do that. The thing is that you know how, because you said you did operations with General O'Neill."

"Well what do you want to know? I can be open."

Carson snorted. "Oh aye, so why do hate your powers so much?"

"Actually, that's a good question." Rodney didn't waver when John shot him a brief dirty look. "Okay, I know I'm the wrong one to comment on this. I relish in mine. I know."

John grimaced a little. "I told you, all I wanted to do was fly. But I became an assassin, a black ops freak who my father didn't want anything to do with. My cover story for the disownment is being gay. That's bizarrely less shameful to him than being a mutant."

"Did he take a moment to consider that it was his genes that contributed to what you are?" Rodney was frowning while he talked. "Pardon me, but he's a moron. You deserve better than someone that shortsighted. I bet you're not the only one in the family, but you're probably the only one who's come out."

John shrugged. "Guess I don't have a healthy relationship with my ability."

"Or relationships with anyone else because of it?" Carson asked shrewdly.

"How about this: I'm glad that you have it, because it makes it easier for me to believe that you're not creeped out by what I can do," Rodney explained, and put a not at all subtle hand on John's knee. He looked down at the hand and smiled. Rodney's gestures of affection were just the type he could understand. It worked well that way.

"You have the coolest power. You can fly, Rodney," John pointed out.

"Aye, well you can do that ninja half flying thing," Carson said. "You know that's only limited by you needing to take a breath. When Rodney supplied you with energy you didn't have that problem. You could most likely fly for a few minutes, John, if you wanted to try."

"We can test it out tomorrow off on the North pier. Run the golfers off." Rodney enjoyed running the golfers off.

John grinned. "Yeah. Yeah, now that's cool. See, I want cool things to do not destructive things. Carson gets to heal people, and you get to fly and... everything."

"You can do non-destructive things. You just need to brainstorm. You have better control than ever," Rodney pointed out. "Even if I don't want to think about why. But. You shielded me from the blast when the base went out. No shield I made could've held up to it."

He had? He'd forgotten, he'd phased them both. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess. Couldn't have done that without you though."

"Maybe now we're here we can try combinations and new things," Carson said. "I can act as an emergency battery, I've got that far."

"It's true, we wouldn't have gotten out of there if I hadn't been drawing energy from Carson. There's no stigma against working together. It's why we go on missions in teams in the first place."

It had its advantages. Most Human 3.0's only worked with their own powers. They could have a significant edge with combinations. He'd need to think about that. Carson and Teyla -- Telepathy and empathy. Or Lorne with his images. Perhaps Teyla could send to him. He seemed to get on with Rodney though.

"Sounds like an idea," John replied.

"So." Rodney cleared his throat a little. "You're not a freak, or alternatively, if you are, you're certainly not alone, and we, Carson and I, love you."

He just found it so hard to say the words. He didn't know why. "I'd do anything for you guys," he admitted.

"Well good, now we've got that out of the way, shall we move on to a practical demonstration?"

"I seem to remember the in school movie on sex not being all there is to love," Rodney snarked, but he was moving a hand to touch John's arm. "But really good relaxing foreplay is pretty close."

"Let's just call it the icing on the cake," Carson said pulling in close. "You need to relax, John. I think we can help with that."

"I still have a sneaking suspicion that the moment we get naked we'll get a call about the cells being broken out of," Rodney murmured, pulling back to pull his own t-shirt up over his head. John leaned to help him with that, sliding fingers over to tweak a nipple.

He grinned at Rodney's reaction. "Sensitive there, McKay?" he asked even as Carson was getting naked there as well.

"Tease. Nipple tease." Rodney shifted, twisting a little to help Carson. "Hmph, I like this sleeping arrangement. Maybe I could try to get some futon cushions sent up."

"I thought we were going to get the enormous beanbag things," Carson said. He seemed intent on performing some sort of massage over John's skin.

"Oh! Yes, yes, the beanbags. How could I forget those? And, I'd be supporting the local economy in a way that doesn't involve people suffering." John watched Rodney shimmy his pants off. He was being massaged and treated to the Rodney McKay strip show. Life was good.

Carson's fingers were warm and relaxing on his taut muscles.

Sliding over his back, no tingle of power flowing into his skin, just... normal, normal finger pressure, kneading out some painful knots while John shifted to the middle of 'bed'.

"So, I'm sensing a sort of conspiracy here," John said, even as Carson leaning in to make his massage more thorough.

"Yeah, we ganged up on you," Rodney agreed. "Ganged up on you to force you to relax while we have the time."

"Before the inevitable crisis," Carson replied while he proved to be talented with his fingers. "Plus, you are a man of action not words so we're trying to convince you that way that we mean what we're saying."

John wished it were that easy. And maybe it would be. Rodney and Carson wanted to prove that they loved him, that it wasn't just a trauma-thing. Time would help, John guessed.

He'd believed it back when they had been caught together, believed and felt that it was real for those moments, but also believed that it wouldn't last because nothing good ever lasted for him. The Ghost was hollow, empty and dead in a lot of ways, and had been since the first time he used his powers to kill someone the military pointed at. He used to dream that when he phased, everything that made him real and a person just vanished and all that was left was a force as impersonal as lightning, or darkness. He'd always been a tool for the military and then with Carson and Rodney, he'd been a tool that failed to work and that had hit him hard. If he wasn't that, who was he?

But then there was Rodney who could literally hold him together, and Carson who could find John in the space where he wasn't real and suddenly under their hands, and their watchful eyes, he became real again. Solid and warm and less of a hollow man. He quirked a smile, arching back as they touched him in unison. He was their version of Schrödinger's cat, and he knew Rodney would splutter and tell him how simplistic his metaphor really was to describe a complex principle, but he didn't care, because he knew Carson would give a slow, understanding smile and nod, and Rodney would be talking a mile a minute, hands gesticulating and his magnetic personality literally pulsing with his vehemence...

He'd save that revelation until after the mind-blowing comfort sex. Perhaps... just perhaps, he deserved that much.

"Hey, John. I'm putting in an order on the _Daedalus_ for odor eaters for you." When Rodney kicked his boots away from the bed and laughed before moving back onto the bed with them, 'supplies' in hand. John knew he deserved at least the chance the two of them gave him.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Human 3.0 - Cover Art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/119062) by [Syble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syble/pseuds/Syble)
  * [Art: Human 3.0](https://archiveofourown.org/works/119599) by [sian1359](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sian1359/pseuds/sian1359)
  * [Art: Human 3.0](https://archiveofourown.org/works/119599) by [sian1359](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sian1359/pseuds/sian1359)




End file.
